Unplanned, a plan, your promise
"It will not hurt" you
reassure,
take my hand and lead us two
to usual place, so thick with
coats,
with scented fur, a place where
nobody will come and where
our
feet make tapping sounds
as we climb the marble staircase.
You tell me,
Take off your shoes
and I unloose the ribbons.
You, already barefoot. Stealth:
I am
sixteen, you older,
worldly-wise. You lay out an
old mink and together we
lie,
exchanging soft kisses, the heat
of your palm warming my breast.
I have felt you before. Felt that hardness
when we kissed, when you had
me
straddling you in the field, tennis
skirt hiked, legs tight about yours
I
felt you harden, feeling both
fear and desire. You asked,
Do you want to
see? I looked
then looked away. Could not
imagine... Yet now as I
breathe
in the fur, musty and dank,
I listen to the rain as it slaps
hard
against the window, I feel you
raising my dress, a slow
unbuttoning
of you; you do not wish to scare;
you are cautious; I am an
animal, cornered.
All slowness, lack of threat, you regard me
cautiously,
afraid I might bolt. With a kiss
you calm; with a kiss you seal our fate
And as the sounds fill up the room,
your kiss leads me away, and before
I know it, you are in me, moving,
incrementally slowly, a millimeter
at a
time until you feel the tension
break, a slight tearing and my tears,
those you kiss away, moving gently
for so long as we move through
the rain, as I call out your name
and you, first time, your hand not
braced to
catch it. Your name echoes
about the marble, muffled slightly
by the
coats, the sound of it, dulcet
and sweet but a true giveaway,
I announce
my coming of age,
my love for you : your love for me.
And after we lie,
smiling as children and
you clean the rich blood between my legs:
crimson
and crushed and smelling of roses.
