One At A Time

The wind outside my window

is blowing hard now.

It’s telling me of years past.

In Frat rooms.

On boy’s beds.

Hands on thighs.

Lips on necks.

Danger in flannel.

Spread into positions

I shouldn’t be in.

I remember,

vaguely,

that night.

His hand over my mouth.

Six feet off the ground.

Held captive in a bunkbed.

The sound of music

on the other side.

People dancing

unaware.

My own screams,

muffled.

The smell of gin on his breath.

His promises.

My buttons undone

one 

at 

a 

time.