I am not your Elizabeth Taylor

I am not your Elizabeth Taylor

With bound feet and capped teeth poised for smiles and photographs.

So don’t long for me “ waisted “in corsets and especially don’t try and quieten me into your flower arrangement because my weed scented Poppies will always gate crash that idea that you had of me.

You were sometimes my guru often dictator, but truth be told you were also benevolent and kind

Remember when I was back in Sparta, with a thousand Greek tragedies and Islands on my back

When I could not decide between love in a cold climate or love in time of cholera?

And that time when you scolded me for smoking a cigarette and you told me I always settled for less because I did not expect more …

I was your best student you said, and on my chest you pinned medals and awards until my mercury

Found shape and a page.

And that fate that I had wanted to be written in delicate silk forgot the icon and spat out the saint

And for every morning that I woke up in Salem and I wanted to burn witches

Throwing firewood and tumbleweed into the funeral pyre

You held my dimpled hands and you told me to shush and listen

They are already dead and we are not keeping the ashes

You were my Sicilian Leopard with a mouth full of oranges and sun and you showed me all the other headless Gods while we sat on a merciful rock and ate cassata.

And every time I wanted to hide inside a Caravaggio you pulled me out and told me I did not have to stand around naked waiting to be painted.

So let’s sit down and talk about the day I met Galileo, let’s talk about the day my feet touched the ground, after I had been spun all around and woke up in Damascus without St Paul.

Have you noticed how my feet are getting broader as they slip out of my heels?

And how I have grown fins to swim in every sea, how I no longer walk on moving sands how I locked every mirage on Instagram?

Did you see how settled and rested my brutality underneath my Birkenstocks?

Look how my heart now beats steady on uneven days even when its shape outlines the number 5 ?

Let’s sit down again and Talk about pride, my mother and Bette Davis

And let me tell you about how many tyres I am going to blow with one single breath

On the mini cooper that I am still unsure how to drive

Let me laugh out loud and relish in your familiar sarcasm and your, oh so wonderful reassuring humour.

Let me remind you, how much you love me, not despite, but because

I am not your Elizabeth Taylor my darling.

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