Even Jehovah’s Witnesses avoid me now
since I started wearing my fur coat
year round.
Pervs in the park leave me be
until some pop tune
reminds them I’m alone.
I’m alone in a world
where a woman can’t be alone,
unless she has lost a child somewhere.
Only then will she be allowed
a little madness
in peace.
Only then will her bones
become lighter.
Just perpetual warmth around my neck
and to be kicking my heels
in the chorus–
That’s all I ever wanted. It’s simple:
our fathers taught us to dance;
our mothers warned us
thin dresses catch fire.
Don’t be afraid.
When a stranger steps forward
with an arm, it only means that
you are not alone,
even if you are.
([posted here couple of years ago, but edited substantially. ))
