a little girl idolized me today,
"you are so fast!" her dress had pink
flamingos and her hair glistened underneath the shaky
sun. her brown eyes were orbs of hope.

"you know, anything boys can do, girls can do just as well"
her mother’s advice, i never heard from my own.

"well, she probably thought you were real pretty"
my shoulders slumped as i sipped cherry juice. sweat slipped
beneath my belly.

pretty? pretty? pretty?

what about my ability to run, how my muscles
expand, contract. how my brain is churning with explosives,
and my heart is able to let all these words and turn them into
daisies.

the little girl hugged me before she left,
"you are so good!"

i never heard pretty, or cute, or beautiful,


and i want this girl to grow up to know she is the veins
beneath the grounds, and she can grow up to be
whoever she
wants.

an athlete, a mathematician, a fashion designer,
as long as she’s not only
*pretty