A new poem--roughly made.

I am hot-blooded.

born a little, flat girl,
I wasn’t a danger until thirteen;
developing curves in all the right places.

On clamped the bands,
over the breasts,
over the hips,
cover the face
throw all in shadow.

I must not be a woman.
I must be not a woman.


But I know
The metal warms and pools
golden at my feet.

I am hot-blooded.
And I say Yes.
Yes.
Yes.


Let me know what you think.