My three black belts and 
how to punch me like you mean it.

I have three black belts.
I knot
each around my waist
beneath my dress before I leave
the house in the morning
to remind everyone
that I'm something to be feared--
that I have enough rings around
my hips to be a child of Saturn--
Call me Rhea 
I wear the moonlets to dangle in my
radius--
What a sight it would be to see
a planet fall and break--
again
Yes and yet I couldn't snap the wooden
board
he hung above my bunk bed.
I watched it every night and still
couldn't call it my enemy--
she had herself been cut from another
tree just like me 
every wooden board knew what
it was like to put April on her face--
Yes and yet
with all these black belts
I can not in fact protect myself 
against any
someones I've ever caught in 
my orbit--
they bow before they enter--
slow and quiet-- cold bare
feet on the wooden dojo floor--
pirouette to mimic the dancers 
we've seen on TV-- I didn't mean
to make a moon of you and I can
call you Titan so that you can make
a dwarf of me
I didn't mean to catch you 
in these rings-- tie you up
between the black belts 
that lie to you that I am
something to be feared-- 
this isn't self defense. 
this the graceful art self destruction 
of the child of gas planet
who holds a match dangled 
above her head--
I know at least twelve different 
ways to deflect
a punch if you want to aim
it directly at me--
just tell me to be ready
one, two, three...
and hesitate with me like
we were only going to dance.
I know you don't want to punch me.
I don't want to punch you either
but here we are in orbit--
a collision course predetermined
to become comets of each other.
My father was red and chalky 
and kept Mars in his bones.
And it's so funny how he
kept trying to hang the
board above my bed-- thinking
I would someday grow to learn 
how to break things other
than my own radius-- other
than my own moons I hurl out of orbit--
tell them to circle me no longer!
He tries to 
remind me how I could break things--
how thick I was at my iron core--
He thought I was a fighter-
lived for
inflating my hands into
red puffy gloves-- 
wrapping my
torso over and over in gauze--
I'll tell you not to hesitate to 
punch me even if I'm clothed
in nothing but dangled moonlets
and the three black belts 
I've knotted one
by one
by one--
Punch me once good enough
to feel my skin.
Tell me it was worth it--
tell me it was worth it to
tie myself up each morning 
with three black lies
that there would ever be enough
belts to protect me from 
every piece of my body
broken out of orbit--
I'm not here to teach you how
to defend yourself
I'm here to teach you how
how to break and keep track 
of the pieces.
How much like a dance we are--
how much like planets
like black belts 
like moons--
You can call me Saturn-body 
when you finally aim and kiss me.
I'll call you Titan
before we disperse into comets
or break wooden boards
with our feet 
to earn another belt to
knot under our dresses 
each morning.