I Will Not Come Quietly

His question,
one I knew was
coming
waits in the hot,
sweet air.

I close my eyes and see

a forest of skeletons
reaching for my skirt,
demanding what I do not want
to give.

When denied, the skeletons
are angry.
They try to rip and tear
at my innocence.
I scream and run
and they still reach and
grab for me.
I am surrounded.

I open my eyes and

his eyes wait, expectantly.

“No,” I whisper.
Unlike the skeletons,
he listens,
does not force it.

He nods.

He leaves.

My tears come quietly, unobtrusively.
Yet I am glad that
I did not.