Through centuries of sunrises and sunsets,
There have always been women’s hips.

Hips swaying under the stars,
Dancing to the rhythm of the wind,
Singing the songs of our ancestors,
Worshiping the very life they create.

Before man discovered fire and electricity,
There have always been women’s hips.
Hips beaming with fire and light,
Exuding aliveness.
Source of renewable energy,
The reason for evolution
And incentive for revolutions,
The birthplace of desire,
Hips blossoming, seducing, inviting, receiving.
Wild, innocent hips.

Waves of change ripple across the planet
Like earthquakes
Every time a woman shakes her hips.
Before the invention of the telescope
or Einstein’s theory of relativity,
There have always been women’s hips.

Hips navigating new territories and opening to unknown places,
Hips throbbing with creativity,
Hips that invented inventors.
Hips that ruled countries,
And hips that ruled the rulers of countries.

Hips held captive by ideas
And hips that could not be contained.
Hips that carried us home.

Before there was tantra,
Before there was pornography and prostitution,
There have always been women’s hips.

Hips giving birth to the senses,
To eyes, ears, mouths, noses, and lips.
Hips intimate with pain and writhing with pleasure.

Hips that gave everything,
And hips that held back,
Shamed hips, numb hips,
Hips revered and respected,
Abused and exploited,
Hurt, healed, loved and feared,
Hips that have tasted tongues
And hips that have tasted razor blades,
Hips frozen in fear,
Hips afraid to open,
And hips fully awakened to their power.

Through world wars and cold wars,
Through genocide and suicide,
Through poverty and famine,
There have always been women’s hips.

The beginning of sorrow,
The first spark of hope.

Hips shedding blood and tears
In rhythm with the moon,
Mourning the monthly death of potential life,
Guiding us into the darkness.

Hips birthing saints and murderers,
Lovers and fighters,
Hafiz and Hitler.

Hips birthing hungry children,
Hips birthing slaves and their oppressors.
Hips birthing freedom.

Hips trembling with the pulse of life.
Before there was geography,
Before there was science,
There have always been women’s hips.

Hips of every spice and every flavor:
Rose hips,
Shy hips,
Soft hips,
Bony hips,
Clumsy hips.
Arab hips,
African hips,
Palestinian and Israeli hips,
Jewish and Christian hips,
Atheist hips,
Faithful hips, promiscuous hips,
Brokenhearted hips.
Silent hips,
Silenced hips,
And hips with French accents.

Universal, unconditional hips.

Through the endless cycle of
Birth, old age, sickness, and death,
There have always been women’s hips.

Hips that have been the keepers of hidden temples.
Hips with a timeless, unspeakable wisdom,
That has birthed history
And will birth the future.

Hips within hips within hips
Darkness within darkness
The gateway to all understanding.

Hips pregnant with possibilities
And intimate with the truth.

Hips that have passed down the secret of the universe
In a language
Hidden in hieroglyphics of sensation,
Decoded every time a woman
Inhabits her hips.

Dominique Youkhehpaz