by Joanna Gilman Hyde

“Do It To Me — Do It To Me –”

I had My Voice for THAT

but my voice was stifled, sucked back

when I tried to cry out,

down a darkened staircase:

“Who Is It?  Who Is It?”

And he attacked me

on my unfamiliar bed

to hold me down

to inject me

while I couldn’t say “NO”