Sometimes I have to stifle the desire
to shake other women.

Even the tiniest most
Minuscule fucking ant hill
Of a thing feels like
A mountain of inconvenience
To a woman.

Watching them dance around 

questions

answers

wants

needs

without calling them out on their bull shit
makes me wonder if they’d rather
bleed to death than
borrow a bandaid.

Then I remember the not asking is a symptom
of the fear we carry every hour.

Never knowing whether it is safe

to harbor even the simplest desire.