A Tale of Twice Lost Innocence by Stephen Watson SignUp
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Theme: Rape Share This Page
A Tale of Twice Lost Innocence
by Stephen Watson
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  A buzzing nightclub, in a vibrant cosmopolitan city.

Strobe lights flashing;
Their kaleidoscopic tentacles reaching into
Every corner and iris of the crowded room;
Illuminating the faces and expressions of
The beautiful people;
Bathing them in luxuriant surrealism.

An auburn haired beauty, sweet 18 and all alone
Joins the throng.
She dances on the edge of the marble dance floor.
Her lithe young body swaying and
Bending to the pulsating rhythm of the Latin sound.
Unconcerned by all around her;
Lost in the increasingly chaotic intensity
Of the pounding music.
Swaying to the music; feeding on the rhythm.

The music ended, she returns to her empty table.
Flushed and thirsty she takes a sip, and then
Another of her waiting vodka and orange.
The intoxicating liquid soothing her
Parched throat; refreshing and re-invigorating
Her tired senses.

The music plays and she again takes to the marble dance floor;
Anxious to wring every last drop of sweat from her teenage body;
In a cathartic exercise of self discovery and examination.

An exercise in vanquishing her lingering
Sense of loneliness.

And then, surprisingly, a charming, friendly
Stranger joins her, an attractive man, dancing closely;
Mirroring her every move to the hidden delights of the
Disco beat; swaying together with the music.
Laughing loudly in tandem with the relentless musical crescendo.

Her senses now on over-load she’s feeling dizzy.
The room is spinning, faster and faster and faster.
The friendly stranger takes her hand.
Tenderly leading her away from the swarming dance floor;
Exiting the nightclub and into a nearby motel room.

Memories of a children's playground roundabout appear;
And she struggles through foggy thoughts to
Ask where she is and who she’s with.

A brief and soundless moment later;
She feels a sharp blow and smells an
Overpowering aroma of Lynx rushing
Through her nostrils.
And the friendly stranger pushes her to the floor;
Tearing away her patterned dress and
Underwear in savage synchronisation.

He is skilled indeed, this friendly stranger.

She cries in abject despair: “Oh no, please, no” as
The sickening dizziness intensifies;
Seeping into every crevice and fibre of her brain.
Faster, and faster his fantasy deepens.
And the beating rhythm of the nightclub music nearby
Grows in unison with his violent, thrusting desire.
And the friendly stranger continues his brutish
Assault on her severed innocence until weariness
Assails him and orgasm intervenes;
Leaving her sobbing uncontrollably on the floor.

And her inner voice asks; why did I leave my drink unattended?

The deed accomplished.
The friendly stranger takes his leave.

And slithers away;

Into the ink black darkness of this corrupted night.
Share This:
January 05, 2013
More By: Stephen Watson
Views: 940      Comments: 1

Comments on this Poem

Comment I think this poem effectively highlights the split in female consciousness regarding sexual attraction. Whereas a woman permits herself to dress and dance in a sexually alluring fashion that invites all comers to enjoy, she is devastated when a man assaults her sexually. This is the paradox of self-exploitation of female sexuality by women in society that lifts a woman to the heights in popular appeal in fashion and entertainment; yet, based as this is on sexual attraction, she is shocked and appalled when treated like a sexual object by an assailant. Note, it is not the physical violence of rape that is most complained of, but its degradation in sexual terms, whereby the woman 'feels dirty' or 'is ruined for life' (though physical injuries heal). She is oblivious of the hundreds, even thousands, perhaps millions, as an image in the media, of men she has roused sexually by her dress and dancing, no ‘dirty feeling’ occasioned in her mind, on the contrary, exhilaration in her power to attract men.

rdashby
01/06/2013 14:34 PM




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