Are You Beach Body Ready?

The words claw at my brain

digging between the intricate folds of my unconscious

the instant I step onto the crowded subway.

My legs move to a seat as if they had brains of their own

because my eyes are transfixed on the neon yellow billboard ahead

I stare.

At the white woman’s sultry facial expression

her breasts protruding out of her yellow bikini

the frizzless blonde hair

size 20 waist

large hips

arched back

small nose

opened legs.

This woman doesn’t exist.

She is an object used to sell.

Exploited across Manhattan

telling women to try her weight loss powder

because just look how well it worked!

Isn’t it so nice of her to want to help womankind?

I know she is photo-shopped.

A figment of someone’s imagination.

I know she’s plastic.

Vulnerable.

Yet I still find myself shrinking down in my seat

to make myself physically smaller

as if I will suddenly become “beach body ready”

just

like

her.

The train comes to a stop.

I stand up to walk out

but not before hearing

*Catcall whistle*

echoing behind me

as I walk out of the double doors.

I tug on the bottom of my skirt

wondering why I wore it today

crossing my arms over my chest

I think about my large nose

small breasts

size 25 waist

wide hips

large thighs.

I feel a sudden chill the second I step onto the platform

as I turn around and watch the doors close

trapping the woman inside.