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Rain95
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Rain95 in LGBT

First Kiss

Soft lips

Dark eyes,

Light rum

Velvet sky,

Sweet hum

of content,

And my heart slips

into your possession,

forgetting to ask my mind's permission.

A quiet awakening,

unvoiced notions swirl,

shimmering in the starlight,

breathing for the first time,

drink in the heavy summer air.

Challenge
Write a piece of poetry or prose about losing your virginity. Winner will be judged not only on likes and comments, but on fire, form, and edge. The writer that kicks me in the teeth the hardest gets $200.
Rain95

Define Statutory

Afterwards I understood why it was called "losing".

I felt forms of loss for which my vocabulary, to this point infallible, was found lacking.

An unspoken thing had been ripped from me. 

I did not much notice it's existence nor did I realize ownership over it until it had been taken, unwillingly.

Consent is reliant on both parties understanding the terms, not that it was asked for,

perhaps because of the knowledge that it could not be given.

The struggle was fleeting and mostly in confused whispers which quickly turned to whimpers of pain once the objective had been attained.

Unable to process, only to endure I felt the sting of tears more acutely than anything else.

When they fell they somehow unleashed my voice, momentarily freeing it from it’s bonds.

My frantic cries eventually pierced his indifference, after attempts to silence, dismiss, coerce.

I remember pushing him away, this time it effected the desired result.

That first gasp of air was freedom even as I scurried backwards, claiming as much space for my own as I could in that oppressive temple of innocence which we had defiled.

Though I did not remember agreeing to the act, I had been present nonetheless and therefore must hold partial responsibility.

Right?

I wanted to watch the wooden and plastic structure burn against the bruised sky which throbbed like my body.

Wondering if the flames would purify me, I stumbled home silently, hopelessly anchored to reality by an iron grip that would not subside until my sanctuary was in sight.

It had never looked so familiar yet somehow strange, as if I had been away for a very long time and was not the same person who had crept quietly into the night before.

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #36: Write a Haiku or Tanka describing a colour without using the name of the colour. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge
Rain95

The color of Pride.

I am still learning how to

wear it on my skin.

It can be easy to feel 

unworthy of such beauty.