This is dedicated to all the women and girls who won’t be celebrating this International Women’s Day.

This is dedicated to the women whose every breath is breathed in a warfare for autonomy of her being.

This is for the women who fight wars to put their feet on the ground every morning, to just breath.

This is dedicated to girls and women of gender conscience, celebrating International Women’s Day languishing in prisons.

This is to the women in prisons for being raped, for being subjected to domestic and inter partner violence, while men who rape, and brutalize women are allowed to retire, check themselves into rehabs and start anew in their privilege.

This is dedicated to women being tortured by time, tortured by indefinite silences in search of solaces asphyxiated by a bureaucratic trial of disregard.

This is to women displaced and surviving refugee camps long forgotten, searching for interned answers, across landscapes of displaced truths.

This is to those women fleeing militarism sponsored by commercial materialism. This is to those women standing up to gentrification and economic displacement with nothing but historical economic disenfranchisement to work with.

This is to the all tribes, clans, regions of African women, Black, South Asian, South East Asian, Middle Eastern, West Asian, Pacific Islander, scratching their truths, their wisdom, their narratives in books that the New York Times Best Sellers in Hardcover Non-Fiction lists cannot hold up.

This is to the feminist axis, spinning human evolution of consciousness into a cultural perception against gender terrorism and gender apartheid.

This is to those Taino warrior ancestor women breathing through descendants in the fight to emancipate islands from colonial shackles.

This is to those Afro-Mexican, Afro-Latinx women shattering white-isms and defining all colors against the backdrop of their skin.

This is to body positivity not being body tokenism to expand marketing demographics. This is to a body positivity that is not peripheral to cosmetic exploitation. This is to body positivity expressed in stretch marks and scars, skin blemishes and melanin richness.

This is dedicated to International Women’s Day at a checkpoint in Ramallah.

This is dedicated to International Women’s Day at Yaris Wood.

This is dedicated to women not celebrating International Women’s Day at the Dadaab Refugee Complex.

This is to Aka and Orono women.

To the Black Women Professors. Black Women Teachers.

To you teaching curriculums of Black liberation through Black Women’s emotional labors, psychological warfares, post-colonialism and Black women’s genius. This is to women’s her-stories of Haiti, Jamaica, the Dominican Republic, Dominica, Guyana, Antigua and Trinidad.

This is dark poetry, written by dark women, who inverse meanings of light and white with lacking color.

This is Dalit women poets.

This is to Women comedians.

This is to the women voting today in Sierra Leone and the Kenyan women still standing up against the ballot.

This is dedicated to the economic refugee designated within the mediated tongue as migrants.

To the Dreamer, whose existence defies borders and shatter colonial longitudes and latitudes in determination of a dream.

This is dedicated to a sexual liberation, brought to you by women sexual educators, without sponsorship from industries and lens of misogynistic white gatekeeping.

This is to the two-thirds of women indentured to economic exploitation who are tired of being told to “lean in” to their subjugation.

This is to the women under surveillance, to women stalked by police men, to the women who know that countering violent extremism starts with countering the cultural narrative of a white man and white structuralism.

This is to the women in hospital beds. This is for those neurodivergent women, the women with CPTSD, PTSD, depression and bipolar, to those women who live the DSM through their being.

To the women whose bulimia and cutting help cope with trauma, you are compasses in the landscape of the human condition.

To the women whose freedom is not a brand.

This is for all the displaced tea plantation workers, the women whose memory sits in rubble under Rhana Plaza, to the women in sweat shops sponsoring Nicholas Kristof’s “Half of the ‘Lie’.”

This is to those women watching saffron donning Hinduvata terrorists tear down statutes and are already thinking a women’s statute will one day stand where men’s adornment of his-story stood.

This is to never forgetting.

This is to the women journalists, activists, historians who don’t let a mediated amnesic, socially mediated pacified and anemic political and historical society forget.

This is for Indigenous and Aboriginal Women.

This is to those women whose languages defy the settler languages.

This is dedicated to those human beings whose lives have been glossed over, stolen, stamped out, so that they may know they are the fire in the veins which keep the movement for a Century dedicated to rectifying the centuries of the savageness of man ignited, and moving toward the day when we can say that in achieving women’s rights, reclaiming women’s history, that we have freed man from mankind.

This is dedicated to the women in defiance of the gender division of labor. This is  invested in women’s labor monetizing the historical blood scrubbed from his-story, in exoneration of a his-story of crimes against humanity. This is bathed in the sweat of women at the shores of time.  This is  dedicated to women who have entrusted us with whatever freedom we have on this planet.

This is dedicated to healing…

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