Dear Tanya,

December 7, 2016

As I write this, I have been enjoying a growing friendship with a man that I first knew during my Salt Spring Island days.

I have always enjoyed being friends and lovers (hey, I am not really stealing the title from the D.H. Lawrence novel) with men. I also enjoy being by myself,too, now that I do love myself.

It was not always this way for me and the following poem reflects this:

Contemporary Verse 2

Volume 13, No 3 Winter 1990

Dear Tanya,

by Tanya Lester

April 17, 1989

With your rough skin; hard, sharp edges, I
still love you. Rounded shoulders
protecting/hiding breasts, I still love you.

Ghost of yourself; fluttering like a moth but
never landing, lighting, grounding.

You will grow up to Rage, Rage, Rage:
If another God damn man rips at my breasts, yanks
my maidenhead, stalks me with his guilty booze-
couraged hands, I’ll kill him /you.

F is for feminist. Fighting/righting in the
streets, home, workplace. Sweet salve, balm on the
festering wound.

The wound inside you grows smaller/heals with the
round O of your mouth being heard
and your body opening.



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