May each woman know the curve of her own waist and the sturdiness of her ankles.
May she familiarise herself with the thoughts that grow like delicate shoots and sturdy oak trees in the field of her mind.
May she be certain of what sets her heart aflame whether for love or anger and be attentive to the sound of the alarms.
May she be confident of the divinity engrained in her bones by her creator, remembering her head is adorned with a crown of his words.
May she claim as her own the scars that decorate her frame like diamonds and prove that she has overcome.
That she may dance on beds of scorpions without fear of their sting, and silence the hissing snake by the power of her countenance.
So when alone she knows herself to be in the company of a legend and is proud to sing boldly without accompaniment.
That she may walk with friend and lover through the gallery of her soul, explaining to all the art of her existence.