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Womanhood MAG
I was fourteen when the red jeep pulled up alongside me.
Blonde head leaned out, lethal boy-man combo, he was talking not to me but
at me, hey you, nice ass
Nice ass.
Nice.
Ass.
Until that moment I was not aware of my body as something others
Appreciated or
Rejected or
Absconded with,
Taylor Swift t-shirt, purple flowers on my bike basket, what kind of girl did he think I was?
The question was not rhetorical.
Thanks, I told him, I made it myself.
Head disappeared and red jeep drove away,
That was the day I started
Noticing license-plate numbers.
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