Hear Me

Look, boy, I'm talking to you: You who love the curve of my hip like a child You who find solace when I'm meek-mannered and mild You who find sweetness in my summer fleetness You who remind me that my femininity is weakness – Just look. You tell your boys to apologize for their weakness And your girls to apologize for their uniqueness; You tell me that it isn't hard for a woman to succeed – she must simply become man in manner and deed. There – you say with a Cheshire smirk As women earn half-credit for three times the work – That wasn't so hard, dear, now was it? (And are you sure you're cut out for this type of work?) You're forgetting, boy: I won't wield my beauty as a scepter. I won't make you any less of a male. There is no need to fear the woman in me: Seeing with me, Agreeing with me, Doesn't make you frail. But know, darling, this above all: Your Cheshire smirk will fade. Oppress me – compress me: I have no shame. I'm ready. I'm willing. I'll beat you at your own game.