A month ago I bought boots
with two inch heels.
I did it on a dare.
See I don’t wear heels often
because tall girls should
surely not try to be taller.

I decided not to care.
I liked they way they gave
my step an automatic swagger.

Today I wore those heels
out into the half-hearted rain
and down the city street
for coffee.
I felt good in my
black jeans and
red blouse and
leather jacket and
those swagger boots.

I held my head high
and smiled to myself.
Until I heard the catcalls
of three men working
on a building and
ogling me from the roof.

So then:
shoulders hunched,
head down,
arms crossed, and
quick, tight steps.

Do you have to take
everything?

Can we ever just be
for us?