Don't let your eyes fall on my legs as if hey are a canvas on which you can paint your imaginations
You are not an artist that can dictate my position in the painting you thought up when disregarding my humanity
I breath and move and affect the ground  underneath me
And even more amazingly, I think thoughts that shake the pages they touch
Don't hollow me out because I resemble the manicanes that stare through thick glass windows and mirror something that towers far above what they are there to resemble
I can't be dressed up and down as my eyes glaze over
I have the absolute and final opinion in the moving and shaking of my independently owned body
Only lifeless diamonds screams look at me
But a moving breathing woman doesn't need to be stared and holla'd at to understand what she is
Why should I be told what is expected of me or be given a manual to how tightly my possessions should be squeezed together?
I am the deciding force behind the direction my hips sway
And you should beg to even be considered by the mind that thought up these thoughts