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Mindfuck

Tracie T. Nichols


Radiant sun streaming over your shoulder, jump rope warm in my small hands— small hands— and you say, You can be anything.

That girls like me, growing toward hipped, breasted and bleeding, are smart and strong. Precious and praiseworthy.

Crescent moon slicing over your shoulder,

terror-sweat cold in my small hands— small hands—

and your slamming, battering body shouts—

nothingyo u are n o t h i n g y o u a r e nothing


 

Tracie T. Nichols


Tracie Nichols, M.A is a Transformative Language Artist writing poetry poetry and facilitating writing experiences from under two old Sycamore trees in southeastern Pennsylvania. Co-founder of two writing groups, as well as a board member and newsletter editor for the Transformative Language Arts Network, her poetry has appeared in Rogue Agent and two Women’s Spiritual Poetry anthologies. More at TracieNichols.com.





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