I sat outside on a fence railing, crying

Hot, uncontrollable tears. I can’t remember,

All these years later,

What for or why.

But I remember you chose

This moment, me, alone 

And vulnerable

To exercise unkindness.

To practice meanness 

On someone just so you could assert,

What? Your frail power?

Your nascent masculinity?

And now, as I am a woman approaching 50,

This doesn’t even

Hurt. It’s basically canon now,

Your pathetic preying.

And I’m not crying now,

I’m raging.