1
I’m beautiful.
Don’t you just love the way I look, the way I smell, the way I move?
I am a woman; the perfected man – beautiful, graceful, and elegant.
My womanhood is never something to be mocked, never has it been scorned,
because I embody beauty such that your imagination cannot fully comprehend.
You like me the way I am, don’t you?
Okay, let’s be truthful here; you don’t just like it, you love it.
That’s because with me you feel good. I make you feel good.
Husband, you flatter yourself with me, my looks, my brains,
and most importantly.my womanness.
2
Oh! Don’t get me wrong, I love the fact that you love me.
I love the fact that with a careless flick of my tongue I can melt your hardened self.
My womanly parts keep you tied to me even when I’m not there.
You strive daily for it, walking, working, struggling, and yearning to possess it;
if not mine, then one of my sex.
To conquer my heart and possess my womanness, you promised me heaven and earth;
love so real and protection so secure.
Husband! Now I need you.
My womanness is threatened! Save it.
3
That doctor recommends a double mastectomy to prevent the cancerous cancer that might one day grow in my bosom.
But how do I explain to him that my breasts are the glory of my womanness.
Supple, soft and silky, their tips elevate for my babies – you included husband.
Won’t you miss it?
Tell me the truth. Will I be woman enough for you without my twin peaks?
No! Your eyes tell it all even though your tongue says a different thing.
Would I save my life today for an ascetic life, one without the pleasures of the flesh?
I think not. I can’t. I won’t. I refuse to lose my womanness.
Husband! My womanness is threatened!
4
If you cannot save it, then help me preserve it for as long as it can last.
Let the world shame us for choosing vanity.
Vanity after all is a woman’s vice.
Come husband, be my lover tonight and leave the future to the doctor.
If I die tomorrow, I die a woman.
But today, I choose to live whole and complete with my breasts;
without fear of the pains of tomorrow
– a tomorrow no one can guarantee.
Onaolatomirin Falade (Dec. 2015)
Don’t you just love the way I look, the way I smell, the way I move?
I am a woman; the perfected man – beautiful, graceful, and elegant.
My womanhood is never something to be mocked, never has it been scorned,
because I embody beauty such that your imagination cannot fully comprehend.
You like me the way I am, don’t you?
Okay, let’s be truthful here; you don’t just like it, you love it.
That’s because with me you feel good. I make you feel good.
Husband, you flatter yourself with me, my looks, my brains,
and most importantly.my womanness.
2
Oh! Don’t get me wrong, I love the fact that you love me.
I love the fact that with a careless flick of my tongue I can melt your hardened self.
My womanly parts keep you tied to me even when I’m not there.
You strive daily for it, walking, working, struggling, and yearning to possess it;
if not mine, then one of my sex.
To conquer my heart and possess my womanness, you promised me heaven and earth;
love so real and protection so secure.
Husband! Now I need you.
My womanness is threatened! Save it.
3
That doctor recommends a double mastectomy to prevent the cancerous cancer that might one day grow in my bosom.
But how do I explain to him that my breasts are the glory of my womanness.
Supple, soft and silky, their tips elevate for my babies – you included husband.
Won’t you miss it?
Tell me the truth. Will I be woman enough for you without my twin peaks?
No! Your eyes tell it all even though your tongue says a different thing.
Would I save my life today for an ascetic life, one without the pleasures of the flesh?
I think not. I can’t. I won’t. I refuse to lose my womanness.
Husband! My womanness is threatened!
4
If you cannot save it, then help me preserve it for as long as it can last.
Let the world shame us for choosing vanity.
Vanity after all is a woman’s vice.
Come husband, be my lover tonight and leave the future to the doctor.
If I die tomorrow, I die a woman.
But today, I choose to live whole and complete with my breasts;
without fear of the pains of tomorrow
– a tomorrow no one can guarantee.
Onaolatomirin Falade (Dec. 2015)
A Monologue on breast cancer.
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