poem 15/30: little crimson waves

"you know you can't get it back"
her mother's words echoed in the back of her mind
playing like an ironic soundtrack
no time for mother's wisdom
she must focus
he smiles above her
"you sure you're ready?"
she isn't, really
but his sincerity in asking
brushing the stray hairs from her face
looking directly into her eyes
makes her more ready than ever
a slow nod serves as her green light
she holds her breath to prepare
stories told to her about searing pain the first time
made her apprehensive
he assured her that he would go slow
the bass in his voice makes her thighs quiver
or was it nerves?
closed her eyes while he guided his hands over her untouched, inexperienced body
sigh of relief escapes her lips as she watched him reach for protection
each step further makes her heart pound harder
a small whimper escapes her throat
she's parted for the first time
the only thing that was hers now belongs to someone else
with each thrust making her more and more a woman
in a little girl's body
no need to regret anything
mommy already said she can't get it back.