Having shed the myth of safety, I arrive wearing caution like a layer of blush. Comb whatshisname’s party for an incorrect twitch or a shadow coated in slick. A forgettable DJ escorts the crowd to all our favorite nowheres. I’m here for blurry fun, but this pulsing room of abandoned home training sharpens every attempt I make at dullness. When left to they own devices, the survivor will always face the door. Will always keep track of who knows the words to the rapists’ most popular tracks. My body arches feral & I don’t mean all the teeth I bare at the bassline of men lining the walls, constant and dirty as death. Defense just conquers me so none of them can. I’m okay with this type of surrender. Somewhere, a man doesn’t ask for a dance and creates a new meaning for take. Tonight I drink myself historyless and improperly free.
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