For a minute there,
I thought I had “not a virgin”
scrawled across my face.
“I just slept with your daughter,”
said the handshake,
“and boy is she good in bed.”
I wondered how much noise we had made,
how much her parents knew,
and what they chose to ignore.
I realized I’ve reached a point
through sex, booze, and other vulgar comforts,
where I can no longer share everything
with the people who mean everything.
The aftermath is lonely.
if I had a word for the opposite of loneliness
I would sprawl it across the page
like two teenage girls in bed.
But I’ve been told that sex
Can make you colder,
Put up walls
of beautiful bodies
between beautiful souls.
I hope that’s just more abstinence propaganda
felt all the things I’d been looking for
under the navy blue sheet,
in the baby pink room,
with my first, beautiful girl.