pride

"ok," I say
he steps behind me
grabs my hips
guiding me, groping me, grinding me
"dancing?"
no.
I look to my friends for help
they smile and nod
...in approval...
accepted sexual assault.
he pecks at my neck
like a chicken
I cringe
intoxication on his breath
I pull away, spin around
he stares, baffled
"I'm uncomfortable," I say
he coughs, arrogant, offended
his friends stare
as if I'm speaking a foreign language
they walk away chuckling
and dance with other girls
more "willing," more "friendly"

but I have no self-doubt
you may call me a prude
but I'm proud.