'You Don't Know Her'

You do not know her; 

Who she loves, what she cries for, her dreams, her fears… You do not know her, 

Yet you know her body like the back of your hand. But unlike your hand, 

her body offends you. 

Her body’s innocent existence repulses you, angers you, embarrasses you. 

Why? 

Fueled by your offense, 

you openly shame, scrutinize and sexualize. You sanctimoniously veer your perverted gaze, yet you peep at her body every chance you get? 

Hypocritically, behind the comfort of closed doors, you happily indulge in her body. 

A body posing in magazines you hide under your bed; A body twisting in tabs reserved for your eyes only. In privately cultivating your perversions, 

You feed the grotesque monster that is your offense. 

In a society that values area over volume, 

You do not care WHO she is.

As long as you can use her offensive body 

against her in public, and 

For yourself in private. 

But is it her body that offends you, or 

is it the subconscious shame you have toward your own perverted desires that offend you? 

In its scrutinizing crusade of every body, 

The white, male gaze has reduced human value to 

The bodies they occupy and not the souls that they are. By sexualizing certain bodies, 

branding them offensive, 

shameful, undesirable, undeserving, disgusting… inhuman?, WE perversely perpetuate - and even justify - 

the subjugation and marginalization of certain bodies. Even our own body. 

While my photo depicts the white cis-female body, the most privileged of the offensive bodies, 

countless communities of bodies 

have been and are 

defiled by the patriarchal panopticon.

In scrutinizing the gaze that scrutinizes me, I scream what the fuck. 

And, in scrutinizing the gaze that scrutinizes me, I ask why. 

And, in scrutinizing the gaze that scrutinizes me, I look for ways to free myself from its binding eyes. I wish I knew, 

I wish someone had the answers. 

(Photo taken by Maxwel Mignatti and piece written by Maxwel Mignatti)