Nawal Naz Tareque

Contains themes of rape and abuse.
Reader discretion is advised.

Lingerie tossed aside, callous. A victorious win!
Enthralled fingers scurry south. I
Tense up – ears ringing high with the splat of torn flesh, pink
Tongues swirled tight, he pries my thighs open
Held frozen still, it is the grasp of the rabbi
Amplified. Not here, I plead. My mother knows-
Teeth graze upon my neck, desperate pleas caught
Slowly dissipate. Nails dug deep as my vulva
Insists, demands, begs for it to stop. Ah!
Not so fast, he declares with another shove. I start,
Knowing it’s futile for me to even expect
It to grow tired – the innocent monster with its salacious glare
Never listens, never notices; ravenous, he will only compel.

Rose Tinted illustration for Nawal - 01

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