Hushed whispers
Of my elders
What are they talking about?
Illumination.
Ew, so gross!
Why would girls put up with it?
Anticipation.
Don't let me be last.
I want to be a real woman.
Realisation.
That first clot of blood.
Forever etched in my memory.
My time of the month - 'I can't swim today, Mamma'
'Why not? ' the little ones clamour
A mysterious smile: oh, just a girl thing.
An annoyance.
To be avoided - left without provision -
Darnit! should have kept an eye on the calendar.
I guess it's all part of growing up.
That first blood: girls crave, then roll their eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Expand on this, it's a good start