When the business man shoulder checks me in the airport, I do not apologize. Instead I write him an elegy on the back of a receipt and tuck it in his hand as I pass through the first class cabin. Like a bee he will die after stinging me. I am 24 and have never cried.
Once, a boy told me he doesn’t believe in labels. So I embroidered the word “chauvinist” on the back of his favorite coat. A boy said he liked my hair the other way, so I shaved my head instead of my pussy. While the boy isn’t back, I learned carpentry. Build a desk. Write a book at the desk.