one minute about my beauty

San Francisco airport. 
Walking through those big grey metal 
and plastic things.
A person in a blue uniform,
here to ensure my “safety”
squawked “female”
turned to me and explained 
“random check”
And I thought
“God, what if I wasn’t?”

And it’s not that they were wrong
It is that they didn’t get the full story
When someone with my length of hair
And fat distribution on their chest
similar to mine
comes to pat me down 
and I thought 

My “female” is telling men 
on dates 
that I like yoga,
which is not untrue 
I don’t tell men how strong I am
on the first date 
because it’s not feminine. 

Can you please explain why a woman 
who you cannot physically overpower,
is less of a woman? 

My “female” is fluid. 
My “female” is a blinking cursor 
on a plank page. 
My body is a poet. 

My female is a hard image
”Don’t fucking touch me!”
Not because I don’t want 
you to touch me,
But because I’m afraid
you are 
to touch me. 

Not because I don’t want men
to think 
I’m interested in them 
But because I’m trying to explain 
your version 
of female 
doesn’t define my beauty.