She let me play with her body.
I ran my fingers over her tummy
so I could watch the goosebumps rise
and nibbled at those skinny fingers
just to get a genuine expression
I ended shitty days
with my face buried in her hair
catching remnants of perfume
I would wrap her around me
her warmth forcing my eyes shut
I loved that her body spoke to me,
she had too much control of her words.
They were never true
the worst kind of sexism is the kind that’s quiet and pervasive. that sits and lurks and slips out of the mouths of men that you like and trust. when people casually dismiss your humanity and don’t even realize they’ve done exactly that. when it’s so casual and natural that sometimes you don’t even catch it.