when women have been intimidated by me
I have been gentle
When men have been intimidated me
I have been sharp

I already know where my loyalties
Lie

“Lilian”

men want to protect me,
naturally, I’m precocious
without boundaries.
I allow them a distance.
a shadow walking behind me
 nightly as I prowl
without motive.

but lately,
I see a silhouette
coming towards me.

what firepower does love have?
they read my words out loud
and curse themselves

“spells”

I think at some point
you have earned the right to say
I know because I lived it
without acquiescing to
authority.

“stasis”

We were cities. Tiny cities lined with beaches. Strips of sand. Abandoned grit castles.  Parapets. Insects climbing silt balconies. Teeny tiny ants looking up at the tiny grit terrace. Ants floating in the moat.  Dead. Salt shells. Skeletons. Bones buried under crabs. Looking at the clouds. Looking at the clouds. Wishing we were cities. Being swallowed by tsunamis. Over and over, wishing we were bigger. Could walk on water. Wishing we were big clouds that passed over great big cities. Like tsunamis. Dead.  We were grains buried in each other, trying to be countries.

‘colorado”

show them maturation under pressure,
what squalling children do.
show them your doll collection.
show them your hands.
say
magic magic clap clap clap
look who got her hands back

this next section is called,

throwback poems

The idea of
you
touching me.

“Saturday, and miles to go”

“So, this power outage, it’s all over you said right? Even the coast?”
“Yeah.”
“And what did they instruct you to do, you know, to help us?”
He turns around to face me. I shrink but I am not shaking. My frown is set.
“What we are doing: bringing you supplies, telling you about curfew before we enforce it, and patrolling the area to make sure there aren’t any lootings?”
“But what about heat? We all need the electricity to turn on the heat even if it’s gas.”
“They are working on it.”
This was frustrating.
“Who? PECO? A lot of us don’t have access to the internet currently and we don’t have cars or CB radios. It must be hard to get all of the information out to everyone. And to get enough members to work on it at once.”
I had said too much and fell back in my seat letting silence breathe between us. It’s not that I’m impetuous, it’s that I hate feeling stonewalled. But I understand space and men and the way our eyes kept meeting in the rearview.
“This is a coastal outage,” he hesitated. “And the national guard is going to be visiting all of the major metropolitan cities in the next few days as The Department of Energy works with local suppliers, yes. It will be fixed.”
“It’s kind of scary right? How are they handling gas? Are you guarding the gas stations?”
“Yes,” he was short but added, “People are leaving, going inward, other parts of Pennsylvania aren’t affected. It’s coastal towns and major metropolitan cities.”
“What caused it?”
I was digging my nails into the fabric of my pants trying to get to my thighs to contain me.
“I don’t know.”
I could see the partner heading back.
“Does anyone?”
The little white apple appeared on my phone and I began to tremble again. My laconic companion picked it up gently without taking it off the charger and handed it back to me.
“My partner is getting that man a care package and then has two more houses to go. When he’s done, we have to go to the next street. If you want to keep charging your phone, you can ride to the next block with us.”
The case was cold in my hand and I was already glued to the screen.
“Yes,” I said without thinking. “I’ll go.”
It began: all the notifications popped up in front of me and his partner swung the door open.
“Do you need volunteers?”
“Not yet,” blue eyes cut in.
I nodded, suddenly thwarted and covering my phone.
“She’s gonna ride with us to the next block so her phone can charge more. Is that ok?”
“Ok by me, ok by you?”
The trunk popped. I was acting unphased as if I knew these men and felt safe with them.
“Yes,” I repeated and as Blue Eyes walked around to the trunk, I glanced at my phone. I saw twenty missed calls from home and swallowed.

“So, this power outage, it’s all over you said right? Even the coast?”
“Yeah.”
“And what did they instruct you to do, you know, to help us?”
He turns around to face me. I shrink but I am not shaking. My frown is set.
“What we are doing: bringing you supplies, telling you about curfew before we enforce it, and patrolling the area to make sure there aren’t any lootings?”
“But what about heat? We all need the electricity to turn on the heat even if it’s gas.”
“They are working on it.”
This was frustrating.
“Who? PECO? A lot of us don’t have access to the internet currently and we don’t have cars or CB radios. It must be hard to get all of the information out to everyone. And to get enough members to work on it at once.”
I had said too much and fell back in my seat letting silence breathe between us. It’s not that I’m impetuous, it’s that I hate feeling stonewalled. But I understand space and men and the way our eyes kept meeting in the rearview.
“This is a coastal outage,” he hesitated. “And the national guard is going to be visiting all of the major metropolitan cities in the next few days as The Department of Energy works with local suppliers, yes. It will be fixed.”
“It’s kind of scary right? How are they handling gas? Are you guarding the gas stations?”
“Yes,” he was short but added, “People are leaving, going inward, other parts of Pennsylvania aren’t affected. It’s coastal towns and major metropolitan cities.”
“What caused it?”
I was digging my nails into the fabric of my pants trying to get to my thighs to contain me.
“I don’t know.”
I could see the partner heading back.
“Does anyone?”
The little white apple appeared on my phone and I began to tremble again. My laconic companion picked it up gently without taking it off the charger and handed it back to me.
“My partner is getting that man a care package and then has two more houses to go. When he’s done, we have to go to the next street. If you want to keep charging your phone, you can ride to the next block with us.”
The case was cold in my hand and I was already glued to the screen.
“Yes,” I said without thinking. “I’ll go.”
It began: all the notifications popped up in front of me and his partner swung the door open.
“Do you need volunteers?”

They lead me to their squad car in silence and ask me to sit in the backseat. My mood swings again but I clutch the edges of my jacket to sit still. Climbing in, cavalier, as if I have nothing to worry about it, locked in the back of a prison cell, I am really truly pulsing.. Brown eyes gets in the drivers’ seat and I watch blue eyes walk further up the block. Brown eyes grins at me as he settles, reaching his hand out for my phone.
“Don’t worry, I won’t look at it. Just going to put it on the charger.”
Sometimes when people ask me to do something, I shake. I begin to quiver as I perform the task. I am sure there is something wrong with me, my outfit, the way I write my name, sign a check, do my thumbprint. I am sure they see it: the fallacy, the fool, the jest. I am wearing a flesh costume of a woman assured in her self and today I am playing the part of Samantha Liss, twenty six, and quite possibly unafraid of anything. She has a big handsome boyfriend and wonderful parents and a home she loves.
“Thank you,” I hand him the phone.
I watch him fumble. His hands are dry, cracking around the cuticles. He has short stubby hands and nails and I can tell without even getting close to him that his breath smells like coffee, that he is duped sometimes but proficient at others, and that he finds my muted sensuality alluring enough to make chit chat. I clear my throat.
“Got it,” he says glancing back at me.
His smile is kind and he has age lines. I spectate he is thirty six years old. His fingers are bare though he may not wear a ring while he is working. He looked forward and I watched him, glancing away when I caught his eyes in the rearview. His partner was talking to a neighbor.
“Did you lose power?”
“Me? Uhhh yeah, we all did. I mean most of  us did.”
“What area are you in?”
“Oh, this area, closer to Snyder though, and a little west.”
I never wanted to see this man again.
“That whole area is out?”
“Most of it yeah,” he nodded watching his partner.
This is when I sort of slither back in. The shaking stops. I’m suddenly cool to the look and the touch and I’m biting my lip, cocking my head. This is when I settle back in. My eyes are set on the rearview waiting for the next glimpse. Make myself shrink in the back like my car seat is too tight. I need to get out. Watch you in the rearview as you watch your partner. This is when I begin to stretch and I am no longer shaking. He looks up at me again and I hold the gaze but taken to another place. What am I, little worm? I held it up to the sun after the rain settled and the sky began it’s slow unveil. I held that worm up to the sun and then dropped it on the concrete. Began hopping up and down on it until it was smashed to bits and stuck to my shoe and I could lean down and whisper at it’s dismemberment. Unafraid unafraid unafraid.