wanted his kisses to make me a woman hoped each suck would draw doubt from my body thought that if he planted a see in me that I would have a purpose But I, like many sistas, was wrong so i walked that Cres until I came back to square one was trying to discover which cup of tea was mine which doormat would bring relief which coat rack to rest my hat on which lover's bed to sleep in I want to be like *that* girl whose walk is much bolder and freer and fly who goes unfazed by judging eyes who hips sway with righteous pride