Mother knows best

Mother always told me never to trust a man with dirty hands.
His were spotless.
I checked his palms, his long bony fingers, I even checked under his fingernails.
At least I thought so, until his hands kept grabbing me even when I said no.
Gripping, tugging, pulling, forcing.
No. No. No. Please...
Shirt gone.
Bra gone.
Pants gone.
Underwear gone.
Please don't. I don't want this. Please don't.
Tears fall, words fail.
Not strong enough, never strong enough.
I thought his hands were clean! I thought I could trust him.
I look closely.
His hands were never clean. His eyes never more piercing.
I check under his fingernails.
I see the dried tears of many women.
I see begging and pleading.
There shoved tightly in between the cuticles I see a losing battle.
Mother always told me never to trust a man with dirty hands.
I won't make the same mistake again.
After all Mother knows best.