Yield Ahead
She has yellow dashes
down her legs.
He held onto her highways
to keep her in place.
“This is a crime,” we say.
They reply,
“Highways are highways.
They were made
to be ridden.”
Now,
between her highways
there is a dead end.
On each ankle
there’s a sign that says,
“Yield Ahead.”
She doesn’t look men in the eyes anymore,
afraid she might see the red lights
they ran through.