submission

there was a time
when women
hid their
legs beneath
dresses that
resembled drapes,
and their
intelligence
too was muted
by men who wanted
quiet
in their little
imagined kingdoms.
desire and lust
were in
the closet, safely
held secrets
in the dark.
ambition dulled
with a wooden
spoon
and a crying baby.
even their names
had to be
changed in order
to show
submission, to
erase where they
had come from.
how little room
there would have
been for the likes
of you.