A woman unclean, ashamed, used and abused (Erin Moon)

   I am a woman 

of no distinction, of little importance. 

I am a woman 

of no reputation save that which is bad. 

You whisper as I pass by and cast judgmental glances, 

though you don’t really take the time to look at me, 

or even get to know me, 

for to be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known, 

and otherwise what’s the point of doing either one of them 

in the first place? 

  

I want to be known.  

I want someone to look at my face and not just see 

two eyes, a nose, a mouth, and two ears, 

but to see all that I am and could be, 

all my loves, hopes, and fears. 

That’s too much to hope for, to wish for, or pray for, 

so I don’t, not anymore. 

Now I keep to myself, and by that I mean the pain that 

keeps me in my own private jail, 

the pain that’s brought me here at midday to this well. 

  

To ask for a drink is no big request, but to ask it of me, 

a woman unclean, ashamed, used and abused, 

an outcast, a failure, a disappointment, a sinner? 

No drink passing from these hands to your lips 

could ever be refreshing, 

only condemning, as I’m sure you condemn me now… 

but 

you don’t. 

  

You’re a man of no distinction though of the utmost importance, 

a man with little reputation, at least so far. 

You whisper and tell me to my face what all those glances 

have been about, and you take the time to 

really 

look at me. 

You don’t need to get to know me, 

for to be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known, 

and you know me, 

you actually know me, all of me and everything about me. 

Every thought inside and hair on top of my head, 

every hurt stored up, every hope, every dread, 

my past and my future, all I am and could be, 

you tell me everything, you tell me about me. 

  

And that which, when spoken by another, 

would bring hate and condemnation, coming from you, 

brings love, grace, mercy, hope and salvation. 

I’ve heard of one to come who’d save a wretch like me, 

and here in my presence, you say, I am he. 

To be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known, 

and I just met you but I love you, 

I don’t know you but I want to get you. 

Let me run back to town, this is way too much for just me. 

There are others, brothers, sisters, lovers, haters, 

the good and the bad, sinners and saints, 

who should hear what you’ve told me, 

who should see what you’ve shown me, 

who should taste what you gave me, 

who should feel how you forgave me, 

for to be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known, 

and they all need this, too, we all do, 

need it for our own. 

To hear a powerful performance of this poetry by Erin Moon, 

click on the video below:

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