It's not that we're not used to riding
In the dark
In a boat we can't steer
On tracks laid by somebody else

We are women, after all

But why try to make us laugh
At women being sold?

Why show us your leering robots
Debating our price
And pretty women running, hoping to be free
And fat women running, hoping to be taken
When we remember running
We've longed for the foolishness to fight back
We've longed for the dignity of being chased
The pretty ones bring the best price
The fat ones are a bargain
We already know this story

Do you show us this because
We never wanted the fight
Or the chase?
Is it because sometimes we forget
What our price is?

Listen
We have a story too
A tale worthy
Even of the Diz

There were three of them
Once upon a time
Three Women of the Caribbean
Off to see the world

The first
Is as you see her here
Mostly robot now
Fat
Coy
Deperate on cue

The second one
The pretty one
Died fighting
And would not be captured

And the third?
She is off track
Floating in a boat
Alone
There, past the ships
Where you cannot see her size
Around the corner
Where you cannot know her price

And if you look for her
First, understand
If she is silent and carries no light
It is not that she does not wish to be found

She carries treasure, you see
Some hers
Some yours
And there are pirates in these waters.

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