I wont sit quietly,
tufted, perched and quaint.
Long thin lady fingers, sip, sip, sip
that society brew. Just a touch of honey please.
Large parts are uncomfortable
for you to look at, all me, all I have
behind these eyes that dare you to say
one
single
word.
I made peace with my cake.
I set my fork aside long enough
to feel the shame
of flagrant hip bones poking me in the eye.
Beauty, they say. Woman, they say.
I defy you, taunt you with my curves
as you judge and lust for me together.
I will not sit quietly, sipping this piss in a cup
of all you want me to believe is true.
I have transcended your bones of glamour,
fearlessly embracing the mystique of my true form.
7-5-16