Defending My Virtue
Who knew that I would need
shoestrings to escape rape?
I felt safe on a double date,
the “safety in numbers” misnomer.
He came on like a ten-armed
octopus with suction cup hands.
The couple in the back seat
were obviously in full accord,
based on sounds my ears
were recording.
Out-manned in size and strength,
I searched for a weapon.
I found it in the glove box.
A single, unattached shoestring
serves well as a garrote
when applied to the neck
of one whose hands are
occupied elsewhere.
He took me home.
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