when my hands move
light as finch's bodies
punching like hail shot them down in the final gale of summer
landing on your face
your stomach
your heart
i walk with the swagger of a dog who was never trained
and when people point it out
that i
a chubby girl standing at five three
walk like i got something to show
i think back to when i made mice of crocodiles
and beg them to start something
i am small
make me feel alive
push me, please
push me too far
it has been too long since dying birds have stained my shoes
and i have broken my nose

she can be a teacher
with broad soft arms
padded by the birth of children
and harded at the core
from when she could be a boxer
reeling from the punches
and spitting foul words
oh! the feeling of a fight
gives her swagger when she walks
in combat boots
from when she can be an artist
layered with paint and hair dye
all self expression and stardust
and thoughts
thoughts that have made me a scientist
a woman of science
a woman
is so much more
than the front of her
or even her insides
i'll calmly paint or teach a lesson
but i fight to feel alive
and no one no one
will ever take that english ivy life from me