Let me grow my hair,
so you won’t trace the ***** of my collarbone
like it was shaped for your gaze.
Let me drown my arms in fabric,
so a stranger’s fingers won’t twitch with hunger,
so no one will say I was asking for it.

It’s just a hand,
just a hand-
but I didn’t know a piece of me
could call out in silence,
could summon wanting
I never invited in.

Let me disappear under long sleeves,
let me vanish in loose folds,
so you won’t see the curve of my waist
and blame me for your craving.
Let me hide every inch of skin,
as if my body were a lock
and your desire the only key.

I have done everything.
Now tell me-what more should I give?
Should I carve away the flesh,
peel myself down to bone,
so you will finally see
what keeps me awake at night?

Should I hold out my wrists,
let you read the stories
written in fine white lines?
Should I turn my face,
so you can study the hollows,
the weight beneath my eyes,
the proof of all the nights
I have battled myself?

I want you to see-
to see beyond the skin,
beyond the body,
beyond the hourglass frame
that cages me inside your fantasies.

I want you to know
that I am more.
I am the ache in my own chest,
the breath I hold between words,
the voice that breaks but still speaks.

Don’t just crave my skin.
See me.