To your 260 pound body,
On top of my 90. Icicle
Fingers leave burns,
Like that of dry ice. -109°F
Against my 98.6°F. Mouth
Ajar, door knob locked.
Paralysis knows best
Against my underdeveloped
Breasts.
Salty sweat drips
on my trembling thighs.
Manipulate the fragile, weak,
like a rag doll.
Another command.
Dampened palms cover
My pleading cries. Ready
To boil and erupt. I resist.
Brother tightens his grip.
Annie Murphy is an English major. She works at the Penn State Berkey Creamery on campus. In her free time, she writes poetry and nonfiction. She also enjoys playing with her four cats. She seeks her inspiration from Emily Dickinson and Sylvia Plath, along with her professors that have molded her work over the years. She aspires to write her own book of poetry one day.