First Impressions

A shaky breath, two eyes closed
Fingers slightly curled
Cotton fabric – flowers, red –
Slides down my hips and furls
A heavy breath, warmth permeates
Eyes lightly flutter up
Skin on skin, so it begins
Were we making love?
Was red better than the blue
Did he even look?
Were intimates the same to him
As playthings he forsook?
A moment caught in snapshot
Was I once that young?
A glimpse at how he passed the time
And what was done for fun
Done for fun, his reaching out,
For all that he could gain
Done for fun, my lying still
From bliss to twisted pain
A theory, really, nothing more
That touch surpasses self
Leading to distinctive paths
Heaven or else hell
But on the way to heaven
Some hell I must walk through
Penance for blame and sexual shame
My heart has come unglued
A thousand shocks heard that day
After the main event
A thousand cuts in years to come
That day there were no hints
The argument has been made
‘Twas rape on the first touch
The game was rigged from the start
This was never love
Which leads to lessons I must learn
Why his touch pleased me so
I must learn to self forgive
And mercy come to know