On Shelley Beach

The night he asked me to the beach
I quickly answered no
but when he shot me that hurt look,
I relented, agreeing to go.
I know that look well.

I was here, when was it?
last week, last month, last year?
near the trees he took me
with sweet words and a strong hand
I thought him kind then.

He told me he loved me
and that it wouldn’t hurt
he didn’t and it did
would that it hurt so much worse
that he might love me some small bit.

He stood up and said something
that I couldn’t understand
I walked into the water
and tried to clean myself.
I wish it had taken me then.

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