I Knew My Place

I knew my place when I was cooking

barefoot

scrambling to please

the indomitable hostess

fierce in a frazzled up-do

sizzling while he sat at ease.

I knew my place when I was chewing

my cheeks

cognizant of my inconsequence

biting back that biting retort

while they chewed conceited cud

confident of their pompous placement.

I knew my place when I was toiling

drudgery

forbidden from the boardroom

as I covered incompetence

silver coffee serviette

service with a smile.

I knew my place when I was massaging

his ego

and his member, crafting a pleasure cruise

dutiful and doting

at the expense of my own satisfaction.

 

I know my place when I am standing

strong

solid on my own two feet

above the clamoring fray

going my own way.

 

This piece was inspired by I Knew My Worth by the inimitable Kindra M. Austin.

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