The Songs of Bilitis: I. Bucolics In Pamphylia: Regrets
At first I did not answer, shame sat upon my cheeks and the throbbing of my heart hurt my breasts.
Then I struggled, I said "No! no!". I turned my head, and the kiss did not meet my lips, nor did desire spread my close-locked knees.
He asked my pardon, kissed my hair, I felt his hot breath on me, and he left. . . Now I am alone.
I see the empty place, the lonely wood, the trampled earth. And I gnaw my fists till they bleed, and I stifle my sobs in the grass.