sometimes you will fall in love with
the hands or with the jawline, not with
the penis. watch out for boys whose eyes
are rougher than their voices. little girls
love hard and fast, and it is a lie to say
that words will never hurt you.
kissing in the rain is not romantic. it's cold
and wet, and your nipples will be like pebbles
digging into his skin. he'll wipe water from your
lashes, and, if he is polite, he'll pretend
not to notice his thumb blackened by mascara.
later as he sleeps you will watch his lips,
unable to feel anything except your hair
curled damply against your skin.
when you were young, sex was strange
and scary and unreasonable. when you grow
older, that doesn't change at all. please,
do not use the flavored condoms.
getting married tastes like a wedding
invitation, heavy cardstock and eggplant ink.
if you cut your tongue and bleed all over
the calligraphy, it's bad luck. when you speak
your vows and look in his eyes, you will still
feel the blood in your mouth, warm and metallic.
maybe you won't want a child, but it doesn't
matter. your body will change, your heart will
change even faster. you are already pregnant,
mother of all the things you wish you didn't know.