She could pinch on the
inside of your arm with her
thumb and index nails
so fast and hard a bruise rose
immediately, water

spilled out of your eyes
as a reflex, and if you
flinched, you got one more.

I wore sleeves for five
years, kept my hear down, sang all
the right notes… always.

They say a little
black dress, the right one, will change
your life, and it’s true.
I wanted that sleek sleeveless
shift more than her approval

more than her threats of
never being good enough
for her, more than her
intimidations, and her
promises of leaving me.

That little black dress
saved me. In the shower one
morning, she grabbed my
upper arm. Seering hot pain
blew through me to my fingers

familiar blood welts
made crescent shapes in my flesh.
That afternoon I
bought the dress. I left her that
night, and I never went back.

I didn’t wear the
dress for almost a year. When
I finally did
my arms were clear, and my head
was clear, and my heart was healed.

And I looked fabulous.

.