That Girl

Something I wrote the other day on the train. I’m having a great deal of difficulty doing any creative writing at the moment. This is the first poem I’ve written in months.

That Girl

sometimes I forget about that girl
who molded her body,
like it was clay
molded her figure
around and
into his palm
sweat-soaked
fear pooling
deep
body
fear

sometimes I forget about
that girl
putting on her face
a different one
for each day
to mark her presence

sometimes I forget

that girl who
hitches up that skirt
curves her ass
just that way
to fit into his eyes
knee-high boots
squirming on the dance floor

“smack my bitch up’
‘superman dat ho’

and sometimes I am that girl
soaking it up
bleeding bits of myself
on the dance floor
and they watch
and they watch
and they watch
and they watch

sometimes I forget
but mostly I remember

sometimes I wonder where
she’s gone to
where she got to
seeing slivers
of other girls
catching the corner of my eye
and I think she’s gone
far away

but mostly
I feel her inside me
that girl
she jab me fierce
watching men
watching her
she is in me still
watching men
watching other girls

skin tight jeans
dark lined eyes
and a smile to say she don’t give a shit

that girl
she in me now
curve of her ass
my body
her body
fits into her own hands
and she comes
when I come
and here she is
smiling now
and giving him/they/them
the fucking finger