you would clasp my hand in yours

& I loved it, how we walked

down the street together.

you would open doors for me

& I thought you the perfect

gentleman, until I realized

my hand

was clasped

in yours,

you weren’t letting go;

you always walked ahead

expecting me to follow,

dictating our path;

& you stood there waiting

when I opened doors for you,

refusing me the courtesy.

We were never on equal ground,

I never needed to be saved,

but you wanted to be Superman

when I preferred Clark Kent.