to the man staring at my butt in the checkout line

Daughters of Eve, part 2

in the beginning
was God
was Man
was paradise.
Then, woman:
because man
had need
of his own image
softened
rounded out.
From woman
man learned
to want
more. Eve fucked
the original
bromance
mistaken wings taken,
forfeited
as pay. Meant
to crawl
to bite
to wiggle beneath
the heel
that holds
her down.

Dear Sir,

Hey asshole,

Excuse me,

Do you understand that you are making me afraid?

Not of you, precisely. I don’t expect you to reach over your shopping cart and grab me, in public.

No, that’s not it.

Your eyes are offering support to a lie I was taught from birth: that men cannot be trusted, and cannot be blamed for their actions because that would be like blaming a dog for dumping in your yard. It’s just what they do. Some can be trained, most you just clean up after and love anyway. That’s the way it is.

Does this feel demeaning to you? It should. If we are not both fully human, neither of us are.

Do you see?

No?

Let me try to explain.