ABSTRACT
I looked at my body, a little, puny, skinny, lonely thing. Is this what they wanted? Isn't it like anybody else's, like everybody's body? Is it because I have this {Touching different parts of her body) or this? {Speaking as if in a hypnotic trance) It's because they see who I am written all over my slippery little body. What they don't know is that sometimes the woman part of me just oozes away, until I am just a lizard mind, a bundle of nerves, a pack of cells, a network of urges and fears. No, they don't see that at all.
