to the man who yelled
“i love your outfit” & then touched me:

first my right shoulder,
then my neck, 
then my arm, 
then my waist
then my — 

i wanted to shout, “my body belongs to me!” .
but to do so would require some authority to speak
as if this thing were mine, 
and not something simply here
to torment us both

maybe i have given up fighting for “mine”
and have settled for “not yours”

maybe i have given up fighting for “body”
and have settled for “heart”

where i lack flesh i still have feeling
and sometimes that feels like enough

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