Sharon Wang
Were you afraid?
How were you afraid?
He thought you were beautiful, probably.
He moved to one side of you.
Then, you moved.
You coiled around him,
you did onto him what you had done
many times before.
It couldn’t have been a violence,
what he did to you.
*
That look of desiring
is hardly articulable but seeing it
he would just know.
He knew the contours
of you, especially
your thinking.
Where to press down
and what you liked
and particularly
how you wanted to be
respected as a woman.
*
You were: open,
open, gyrating,
normal, consensual.
How were you afraid?
Did fear
cascade into your pussy.
You were, you are,
alluring.
Invitational to us
from where we look
at you now:
your face a smooth piece,
your beauty arising
from your mind the way
a creature is released
from marble by the master artist,
was it truly unease
you trembled with.
From the thicket
of the words
you shared over so many
days flooding into months
he arranged you
he made you palatable
when he made you submit
into a thing stunned
and silent.
*
Why didn’t you speak up?
*
You’re so articulate.
We don’t trust you.