A little girl holds her marbles in the bottom of her shirt
The boys play for keeps, and they cheat
She grasps the cool glass to her warm chest through the fabric
As if her integrity is fragile,
Like she was ashamed that she wanted to cheat when her marbles were taken away
The teacher asks why she holds herself like this
Tells her that the boys can see her stomach
As if something will be stolen before her body is full grown
Her belly button has never seen so much sunlight- or so many eyes
The glass breaks on the pavement as she covers herself
And if dignity were a porcelain doll, she’d be broken, too.
I call my mother after dance class so she can tell me not to waste my time on frivolous motion
I tell her I am reinventing a body
That boys stole parts before they were full grown
That if I learn to bend in new ways, I won’t break when they play for keeps and the eyes are on the outside
The broken marbles at recess make new people.