Aurora Phoenix will speak, does speak
I am the woman
your mother warned you about
(let’s face it she was envious)
I have long since lost my place
that musty corner
to which I was relegated
where nice girls sit quietly
legs crossed and demure.
(what point is there in that?)
I turn heads with my stride
I watch the eyes track my steps
though I pause not
in my progress.
do they tremble at my purpose?
or pause at my vibrant colored sheath?
I will not wait
until you deem me old
to wear red with purple
as I rock bold iconoclasm.
I am that version of herself
where holds are not barred
by convention or whalebone stays
crash those barriers my friend
be they concrete or glass.
I AM that woman you were warned about
who will challenge your ass*umptions
prove each wrong
I speak without being spoken to
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