On a black sand beach
I lost my virginity.
How I bled with relief. I finally
understood the shapes of things:
as maiden, I was a trophy
to be won. Now I could never
be caught again, never again
broken into for the first time.
Some bodies are shared, some stolen.
I had not yet inhabited my body
in such a way, even though I’d
passed first menses, that time
of increasing tremors, of coarse hairs
breaking the skin, and the dawning
of certain terrible truths: history
is written by the winners and
you will bear children. It was
a matter of connecting the dots:
my loss was someone’s gain.
To be a woman is a paradox,
bleeding oneself open for another’s
use while desire peaks at mid-cycle.
My youth was a canvas turned
to the wall. The vanishing point
beckoned. I had no choice
but to draw myself forward.
Erica Goss is the author of Night Court, winner of the 2017 Lyrebird Award from Glass Lyre Press. She has received numerous Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominations, as well as a 2023 Best American Essay Notable. Recent and upcoming publications include The Colorado Review, The Georgia Review, Oregon Humanities, Creative Nonfiction, North Dakota Quarterly, Gargoyle, Spillway, West Trestle, A-Minor, Redactions, Consequence, The Sunlight Press, The Pedestal, San Pedro River Review, and Critical Read. Erica served as Poet Laureate of Los Gatos, California, from 2013-2016. She lives in Eugene, Oregon, where she teaches, writes, and edits the newsletter Sticks & Stones.