A Secret For You Poem by Vonnie Postit

On our last trip to your country together, Mima, I begged you to let me have a surfing lesson. I adored you, and your opinion, but perhaps not as much as most other people did. Because when you told me no, I begged, and begged and begged, until you gave in, out of guilt and love for me. I signed up for the lesson with my cousin, at a beach that was walking distance from Mira Flores. Mira Flores is so beautiful, isn't it? My uncle, whom you adopted so he could be a US citizen, bought you an apartment right in Mira Flores, because of all of the beautiful flowers, and the clear view of the sea, and everything in it. You always preferred to have your eyes on everyone; watching, protecting.

Well naturally, I was sexually assaulted that day. He was my surf instructor. He took me away from the others. He asked me, "can i kiss you". He was not interested in a response but I gave him one anyway. I do not remember what I said. He was 39. I was 17. He had tattoos and could lift me easily. He asked me to lay down. He rubbed me in places I didn't know were supposed to be rubbed. He felt me before anyone else did. He learned the curves of my body before I knew they could be known. As I lay on the board; his wrinkly, callused hands wandering my body placing pressure when he desired, occasionally kissing me, I stared towards the shore.

Nowadays, I don't remember how to surf, or what the color of the sea was, but I do remember the clouds. Overbearing and wet and dense and suffocating, they came closer to me. At one point I heard someone scream and he pulled away from me. I looked up towards the shore for something, and admired the apartment buildings that lined the shoreline. Their structures was god-like. Their protection: a blanket of security…