“i felt beautiful until the age of twelve
when my body began to ripen like new fruit
and suddenly
the men looked at my newborn hips with salivating lips
the boys didn’t want to play tag at recess
they wanted to touch all the new
and unfamiliar parts of me
the parts i didn’t know how to wear
didn’t know how to carry
and tried to bury in my rib cage
boobs
they said
and i hated that word
hated that i was embarrassed to say it
that even though it was referring to my body
it didn’t belong to me
it belonged to them
and they repeated it like
they were meditating upon it
boobs
he said
let me see yours
there is nothing worth seeing here but guilt and shame
i try to rot into the earth below my feet
but i am still standing one foot across
from his hooked fingers
and when he charges to feast on my half moons
i bite into his forearm and decide i hate this body
i must have done something terrible to deserve it
when i go home i tell my mother
“no was a bad word in my home
no was met with the lash
erased from our vocabulary
beaten out of our backs
till we became well-behaved kids
who obediently nodded to yes to everything”