An International Woman

ON THE DAY WE CAN STOP MARCHING

When women can dress like male birds
nondescript, brown but not get overlooked;
when gender has no on/off switch
in brooding shadow’s minds;
when what’s done to us in private
is obliterated by pooled sunlight.

When they stop taking pleasure away
with a knife, needle or attitude;
when we’re no longer silenced
but spaces are made for us to speak;
when sex isn’t a commodity controlled
by men but a woman’s gift.

When we're paid as you are for a job
like keeping the human race going;
when you don’t think of me as second
rate or hand or less in any way;
when you look at me and see and sense
exactly what I feel about you.

We'll halt on that day, link our hands
become one international woman
whose feet won't stop moving forwards.