Sensations
of Touch (a first memory pantoum) by Ayla Rogers
She didn’t
understand
What any of
it meant.
Only three
years old,
Still saying
“free.”
What any of
it meant,
She’s still
learning, all these years later.
Still saying
“free,”
And hoping
someone will listen
She’s still
learning all these years later,
How to talk
about what happened to her,
And hoping someone
will listen
To a memory
she’d rather forget.
How to talk
about what happened to her,
When she’s
still clinging
To a memory
she’d rather forget,
Leaves her
strangely speechless.
When she’s
still clinging,
Holding
tightly to her sanity
Leaves her
strangely speechless
Around strange men.
Holding
tightly to her sanity,
She blocks
out the noise
Around
strange men
By speaking
more loudly.
She blocks
out the noise
By thinking
on newer memories.
By speaking
more loudly,
She hears
whispers of the sweetest things.
By thinking
on newer memories,
Only three
years old,
She hears
whispers of the sweetest things
She didn’t
understand.
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