Young Pussy by J.S. Edwards

so the only thing I could do was be vigilant in defense

Young Pussy

by J.S. Edwards

---

I used to think I could ignore 
the sex lives of men, how they 
fucked the willowy young assistants,
sweet faces plastered on websites 
in a mockery of representation. 
If my colleagues were brilliant 
at deal-making and showed me 
specious respect, I could claim 
I didn’t know about young pussy. 
But I knew about young pussy 
because I was once young pussy, 
ogled by teachers, fondled by 
my father’s customers, my friend 
raped by her stepfather, my friend 
raped by her older brother, rumors 
in my town of even younger girls
not talked about, so the only thing 
I could do was be vigilant in defense 
of my young pussy from predators 
everywhere. But I would dream 
teenage sex dreams about rape, 
awake sweating with arousal, sick 
with shame, as if force was the only 
way young pussy was allowed 
to feel pleasure. Now my daughter 
is young pussy, and I dream 
fantasies of violence 
against the men, the elites, 
the President of this country.

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