I’m growling,
moaning, surrounded
by men—
they think I’m their
entertainment.

But no, you’re mine—
you only
exist when
I breathe you
all into me and
stab your knees with
paper cuts.

You’re flounder-
ing, such a fragile shard.

Look at me
when I speak—
pick that
up. I’m going
to tell you
the truth.