The first time she bled,
Stay away from all places of worship, they said,
Do not eat sour, do not touch the pickle jar,
Is what they said, and kept her afar.
That day, a Creator was born,
From the Universe to her womb,
A link was formed.
The power to bestow Life she was gifted with,
All Society could do to her was scorn.
Impure she is on the days she bleeds
Dirty is the blood that comes out of her woman slit
How easily you forget!
It is the same blood that cradled you for nine months!
Divine is the blood that carved the existence of your soul
An essence of the cosmos every drop of it beholds,
A sacrament of sanctity is her body of gold.