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It is water that I come from;
But my temple was profaned.
He came to me and touched me, the man of the lake.
It felt oh so good but oh so bad.
This is so very wrong and it is all my fault
I should say no and scream
I should tattle but I can't 'cause it's my fault
I'd get in trouble and I'm so scared....
And I'm all wet.
He has a house on the lake
and he takes us there and he touches me
and it feels oh so good but oh so bad
Mommy will know and I'll get in trouble....
I'm such a bad girl.
"Don't you want to go to the lake?"
Yeah, sure, but do we have to stay the night?
I swim in the lake and watch out for him
but he finds me and he touches me in the water
and I can't get away and I am so scared
and I can't leave I have no power and it's all my fault....
And I'm all wet.
I cross the stream and only my feet get wet.
Others dive in, and I watch them laugh.
I wade into the tide and I am far from shore and safety.
I long to follow the one who has purposely plunged deeper.
But debris hits my calves and fish gnaw my toes.
I am afraid of the tide it will pull me under it will....
And I am all wet.
Now, only my fear desecrates my temple;
For it is water that I come from.
Carol T. L. Phillips
Wednesday 24 July 1991
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