First Time by Liana Major

I am not a silent poet

Whatever was done to her is secreted somewhere in her body,

which has so far been chary with the details.

It’s clear there were penises involved; that’s how she knows it was

a he. And hair (yeah, that kind of hair), spiky and reddish.

When the memory exploded through her body,

she choked in real time. Who cares if it was hands

around her neck or a cock in her throat or both?

She was little, that’s for sure, and now she’s not.

She’s a grown woman inhabiting a body that’s been hiding

the truth for decades.  I know, something like this

explains a lot. When her scream erupted—

a separate being, unwilled,  from a body finally voicing

its outrage—part of her brain noted that this

was the first time she had ever screamed so long and loud,

and what a pity to waste that scream on such a bastard!

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