A stranger planted a kiss on my cheek today. The kiss's roots bore down into my face, through the flesh of my cheeks. Inflamed my pores. The roots wrapped themselves across my gums and between my teeth. My tongue sat calmly in the centre of my mouth, careful not to touch the root-tentacles. My whole body felt still and quiet: in control of the situation despite the situation being strange and unexpected. Maybe it was shock, too. I felt safe in a pitying kind of way. I remembered that I am a girl. I did not resent it, but I knew it. Knowing I was a girl made me feel despondent, and empowered; and I felt both of these things in a passive way.
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