Desiree Shabalala

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Molested

He pushed it
deep into the depths of the meeting of my thighs
Every pore of my body exclaimed in pain

The woman in me cried
her tears dripping on his legs
they tickled his senses

Short breaths on my neck
Taste buds on my breasts
Heart springing, banging on my chest
I was attacked

Molested,
because tucked away in me
under soft black bushes of hair
is a woman - though fertile and tight,
she still lived in a child

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