Do you know all the things you could do to me with just one hand? Palm my whole stomach? Circle both my wrists at once? Does that turn you on? Did you know my Vans are a size 3? Do you think you’re the first to notice? Did you know my band size is so much smaller than my cup size that it’s hard to find in stores? Does that turn you on? Were you at the bar when a co-worker yanked my arm so I’d hug him? Did you see me fly across the room like a cheap kite? Do you know how little force it took for my body to jerk toward him? Do you think he just meant to go for a firm handshake? Or no? Did you know who he was? I didn’t know who he was. Were you there, in 11th grade, when we read *Lolita*, and my teacher said, *Isn’t it a love story though?* Did you tower over my desk and smile when I said, *No?* Did you take my disagreement as an inability to comprehend beauty? If I were in your bedroom, would you pick me up and say, *Oh my god you’re so light I could throw you across the room*? Like a toy you want to break? Because you wouldn’t be the first. Would you do it? Throw me? Does that turn you on? Do you know what it’s like to be in bed with someone you’re also afraid of? Do you know what it’s like to walk home in the dark and wish you could grow claws? Do I make you feel terrifying? Does that turn you on? What if I put on my favorite babydoll dress and my pinkest blush, looked up at you and said, *I know what you want*? What if I reached for you with my tiny fanged hand and said, *You will never surprise me*? Would you throw me then? What could you do with my smallness? What could you do with my smallness that I haven’t already done?