There is a capoeira poem brewing, I promise.

A girl wearing matching accessories adjusts her scarf knot in a car mirror

I often correct myself by wearing
things that purposefully do not match, have holes
at the cuffs or smell some. I test myself with headstands
that taught me tucked in shirts; by eating chicken feet
with no regard for leaving fowl nails in my teeth.

If you see me walking along the street, please don't ask
me to do the splits. I can do it, but the challenge to show you
there, with no regard for the bag I'm carrying or how
the damp will curl my hair, would be too much to resist.