Some women curve into the heel of a man’s boot like a wisp of smoke.
Some women curve into a man’s words until they have nothing left of their own stories.
Some women learn to curve into a punch without even risking a flinch.
Some women forget how to duck.
Some women, not even yet women, curve into a drunken slouch and wake defiled by a group of promising not yet men, swept up in a night of fun. Some women are just that easy.
Some women are so willing to tag along, so quick for approval, a word of validation, that they will all but bury themselves, clean & tidy, saving everyone else the work.
Some women learn early to run. For some it is too late to run.
Some women give away everything that is tender and trusting and free. For some women nothing is free.
& some women rise up from ash like smoke, one fist full of gasoline & the other holding a match, poised to burn the motherfucking world to the ground so we can all start over again.