In Our Light

By Isabelle Emily

I harmonise with female figures that detonate in a blinding of starlight. Women that sing and soar, inhabiting space in which they intrinsically belong. I watch, touch that light and for a moment, my fingertip glitters. I touch the edge of my vulva – it glows. I cannot not care that when my independence returns, it too is malleable, moulding into something beyond lipstick and lingerie. Women laughing because they love one another. The confidence to stand tall. The freedom to say no. The privilege to stand together, with the strength of my softness. My power is not earth-shattering, but it feels like home.