we aren't going to do anything

poetry about the culture of the body of women and their sexuality relative to men

we aren't going to do anything, I tell him
and he says: but the clothes are already off
--we might as well try
try as in: I've already done this before,
and you're just another hot body
I want to fit into
it'll hurt--but first times are supposed to
I bled---and I'm a man!
I say okay. Whatever--it's fine.
fine as in: this is my body and if I say it's fine,
then it's fine. By saying it's fine,
I'm saying: this is what I want.
I am not a victim of his saying so,
I am a woman,
I have agency over what
I do with my body
but, and I know it, you're not listening to me
when I say:
I have agency over what I do with my body.
his jaws-of-death hands are around my body
I feel small, I feel pretty (as a picture)
this is it, this is it!
what we've always wanted, he says to me
there's a sharp pain from some area
in the abysmal that is this body
I have touched and never known
and I think: this is it
what we've always wanted
I am in pain, he is in pain, we are in pain
I have agency over my body
(we use protection--
even if he didn't want to
--because I made him)
it feels like nothing happens:
It's uncomfortable and he's frustrated
with me for asking 'so many questions'
and I agree: we shouldn't force it,
It's not that big of a deal,
then it does happen
and he congratulated me on it
It's weird but I don't say anything
and there's blood rushing to my head
and he's so pretty up there
but he has been having problems with his back
and much 'prefers' me on top
it's sloppy and I know it's not supposed to be
but I've never done this before and
I tell myself: it doesn't have to be significant
or, like, life-altering,
chase the high---just chase the high
and everything will be fine
---like you said
just keep chasing the feeling
but I feel nothing in that moment
and I don't know what this is
but I convince myself if I keep going
I'll figure it out, I'll learn
I mean, this is what we've always wanted
(I bleed into the toilet at work
and tell my sister that it wasn't that bad)
and it isn't (really) and I don't feel bad:
everything everyone has said was going to happen
happened, and I was prepared for it
(like I said: we used protection).
we break up, I break up with him
and he tells everyone
all about how I was just another hot body
he fit into and that I was fine with it
that I wanted everything I got
I have agency over what I do with my body
(then I felt small--not pretty. don't confuse
the two the way I confused the two)
this is what he always wanted
and there's sharp pain from
that area in the abysmal of my body
that area I've touched, I've known,
of which he thinks he knows more
(to say that the body and the girl's mind
are one being, tethered)
I don't have agency over
what happens to my body of his doing,
I am not a victim, but I am a woman
and I don't have autonomy over my body
--my sexuality
I have no agency over what I do with my body
I am his victim and this isn't what I wanted
I think about the teddy bear on his brother's bed
and the girl who gave it to him
(she's fifteen---fifteen!)
we are their small, pretty victims
and it's not what I wanted for us
---not if I had known
I think: we mistake our sexuality for sex with men
and we allow these men, these things, to make us feel
small and pretty (like a picture---of course!)
we are just another hot body for them to fit into
like this is what we wanted when we said:
I wish I was in touch with my body, my sexuality.
we aren't going to do anything, I tell him
he says: but the clothes are already off.