NaPoWriMo for 4/8*: “To the Wolf, from an unwilling Red”

Standard

I’m forgetting what you look like, thank god.

I still remember the hooked nose, shriveled face, eyebrows unkempt

Were those glasses that made your eyes so big? or was it the way I rememremember

how liquid they were, how large and brown

I saw them but no one really saw you at all.

Oh, what big hands you had!   What strength

for such a frail-looking-thing

fingers pressed into my ass, riding over my breasts

holding me to your fetid heat as I struggled                                                                                                                                                                         (my woodsman never came)

And what big lips you had

that kissed me on the cheek when i turned my head

your laughter pressed against my ear

whispering to calm down

asking if i liked it                                                                                                                                (The many faces peeeering, passing on the street/their absence said yes/the black girl likes it/yes yes shesfine)

How light you were!  How brittle!

Oh, I could have snapped you like a twig

instead of faaalling inside myself like a child,

eyes rolling madly in my head                                                             (where is my woodsman where is my woodsman where is he?)

my push-away hands unmoving

my get-away mouth not screaming

my red cape no shield to me at all.

*(Please check back later, audio version coming soon)

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