One in Three or Four

There are too many of us for youto believe you are either alone or responsible. No woman asks for this. Some are children. Some areboys. Every one of us should havebeen heard. This is for Anna, age 17,who was then beaten and left to die;for Nathan, who at 11 admired the basketball coach; for Rosaline, whosees in her baby the face of a rapistand who finds that face difficult tolove; for sisters when soldiers came,mothers imprisoned among guards,for aunties grandmas daughters sons,for one who was tied and one who triedto scream, one whose husband watched,one violated time after time, one tornapart, who called the police whodid not call her back, who went tothe clinic where there were no kits,who numbed her shame with drugs,who could not drink enough to forget,who took her life, who believed shewas an object, who said nothing, whoknew no one was there and that no one would ever be there. Know this: thereare so many that if we could speak,our voices might spread like floodwatersover their boots and swell past securitystations; that if we cried out togetherwe might finally understand it as anassault on all people, all creation, andmaybe then there would be justice inthis war to claim yourself, a strugglemapped all over the flesh of every womanor child who has known what it is to be used, as you were, your sacred body.