14
A Female Samson
standing close to the man
who puts his claim on me
I tell myself to, at least,
whisper no
but a little girl is spilling out
between my legs
begging to be corrected
into some version of myself
that knows no contradictions
that approaches
wholeness
that little girl is bound
into submission
as the rest of me struggles
against the bonds
a female Samson,
hair still long,
forcing the body asunder