I’m not a marble you put in a mason jar
collecting dust until you get bored again.
I’m not the annoying neighbor who you avoid,
tip-toeing past their kitchen window.
I’m not just a person you pass on the street.
I’m a woman
the woman who’s lips touch yours
the woman who loves it when you dance with her.
the woman who isn’t afraid to speak her heart.
so, when are you going to speak yours?
keep me out of the jar?
no longer duck passing my window?