For all women…
I lie (asleep?) in a room full of beds…
A man (my uncle?) slips under the covers behind me.
Pulls me close?
Presses into me?
Is this a memory? A sensation?
Did I watch it happen to another?
Was the other, me?
Is she 4, 7, 11, 13?
I see the dark wood floors. The white ceiling. The door frame. The handle.
The hallway. The bathroom. The white porcelain tub.
The water running. My aunt in her nightgown.
The narrative remains unclear, but the ache in my sacrum is strong.
A pulsing. A defense. An outrage.
THIS IS MY BODY!
I lie on the carpeted floor. Knees drawn to chest. Feet pressing against my assigned partner. My job in this first chakra exercise is to push away, to claim, to say:
But my voice, typically strong, cracks. Breaks apart.
I am struck by…
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