Out of a low smoke haze
there came strange men
in that way that all men are strange
with a look that means nothing to me.
They would not leave the song unsung.
And I refused to sing.
Refused to believe the sting
of flesh caught in a zipper
caught in a tug of war
for life, for safety.
For LIFE.

They would not leave the deed undone.

Out of the sudden cold
there came a silence
that would not leave.
As I search the newly soiled carpeting
for a sliver of fabric.
A broken wrist. A rape kit.
A week and a year
and still I swear I see bruises there.
Always this memory
in defiance of life.

03/03/2003

Posted on 03/04/2003
Copyright © 2025 Lacy D Phillips