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camp (From "Dreamt Town. City, Country" competition)

the wooden tree behind cabin 9
we called it "the holy tree"
sliced wood and "natural ant farms"
surrounded us

damp towels hung on white rope lines
the swimming pools we spent every day in
the sky we subdued ourself under at night near campfire
we were wrapped up under clouds of golden and gleaming rays
the purity of a youthful happiness

then his palm met the folds of flesh
beneath the tie dye of my white tank top
soon between underwear and in between my hipbones
on the bus i road just a year before

before i had told him not to
yet the words had already left my mouth and were to afraid to meet my lips again
just as afraid as I was to push the words of conversation between us, middair, yet neither of us can reach.

this year, the day will turn gray and grass will turn lifeless
as my heart beats, yet is still not alive
his single hand stealing my youth
and stealing the last place that brought the corners of my mouth to stretch upwards toward those golden skies
the bare stomach that will swim in the same pool will not have his stain washed away by chlorine

the shrieks of my tears and prayers from my 3rd year there will be brought back again
and i'll make a useless attempt to restart.
Written by russiamagda
Published
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