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visions of a dirty, man-hating feminist
September 17, 2012
i dreamed of peeling
my breasts like an orange,
stripping away the sexuality
until all that remained
was functional.
"come here," he said,
"you don't know what you're doing."
his hands were very cold
and his breath
smelled of citrus.
"come here," he said,
and i felt my purpose slip away.
© Christine E., Pequannock, NJ
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