Poetry by Sin Ribbon: On Being Told, “You Don’t Need to Lift Weights; You’re a Woman”

Poetry by Sin Ribbon: On Being Told, "You Don't Need to Lift Weights; You're a Woman"

On Being Told, “You Don’t Need to Lift Weights; You’re a Woman”

I swallow milk thistle and
twist my muscles to lift every
pound
a small form but not
small enough
craving lactic
acid and precision curves—
swooping lines sewn into muscle
licking the bruises on my knees
marveling at how deep the
depression goes

hairpin wrists wrench upward
the weight
of all my anger stuffed
into iron
knuckles blared white
shoved back and forth within
flesh
stuck between what
defines man or woman
ignoring eyes that would
carve a thigh gap into me
and lifting heavier
more
into an eating thing that
yearns to consume and forge—
the copper taste of strength
wondering if that slim
form will ever emerge
how the drone
of fluorescent light casts
me frail and bird-boned
against the mirror— unappealing
reaching
still devoured by the power slumped
between my shoulders


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