She’s angry now

Her body’s never naked

It’s draped in expectation

Her legs scrawl a manifesto

Her breasts write a slogan

Her face may be hidden,

Paralysed or painted;

Her shout must be whispered,

Her friendship must be tainted.

Her weakness is exalted,

Her wisdom is inanity,

Her biology’s a mystery,

Her pleasure is profanity.


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