WHAT WAS SAID.
Put it all behind you,
Brody said, but she
Couldn’t, it remained
Like a stain seeping into
The cloth of her being.
Brody’d not been raped
Or left to die or left with
The big question: why?
She needed to be outside
Breathing fresh air, on her
Balcony, not out in the street
Or park awaiting another
Attacker, some one about
To creep up on her and place
A smelly hand over mouth
And nose. Move on, Brody
Said, things happen, that’s
How it goes. She moves only
From room to room, from inside
To outside the balcony, to take
In the sun, moon, or stars, feel
The air, the breeze, smell flowers,
See trees. Rape was more than
Sex without permission, more
Than hurt or contusions like
Bruised fruit, more than deep
Humiliation, it was loss of her
Freedom, of choice, of dignity,
The breaking in and up and out
And leaving the fragility behind,
To bring her nightmares haunting
To nerves and mind. Brody had
His doubts; wondered if she’d
Fought hard enough, screamed
Loud or whimpered. Or was she
Just up for it, he thought maybe,
But never said, just the look he
Gave, the sign in eyes, the tone
Of voice, the whole language of
Body, she thought on judging
Brody. For all his words and
Suggestions, Brody never slept
With her after that, he slept with
Some other and she with the cat.
