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I am a woman
Dreamt-up by men
They write me on to promote,
They write me off to denounce and protest.
I question my mixed ethnicity,
Made-up by men
And by my old house that I'd quickly fenced,
I step with my bare feet on things deemed painful,
And cross the domestic path where they may promote and denounce
My dreamt-up future children or
My spinstering reflection on the mirror which I love,
Spinning this lone image and
So, here I am,
An object, and yet
On my way out.