We were never free
On Now: Ill-starred from the start, we are drenched in a violent longing
My dress pulled up to my breasts, warm gel on my stomach, the woman glided — searching.
“It’s a boy!” she said.
The relief, it came like a rapture, and escaped from my mouth in a laugh.
The relief that I wouldn’t have to watch my daughter struggle and fight and yearn for rights she should already have, rights she’d be robbed of as she grew.
I wouldn’t hav…