Sex and death. These
are the mysteries.
On a bed, at fifteen, her tongue down Jason's throat,
She makes a deliberate mental note.
"Today it's all the way." She gives his
flies a squeeze
And looks into his eyes, those eager blanks.
It happens then, the meet of willing wills,
And though she feels no oceanic thrills,
It's all right. When he tries to stutter thanks
She covers his mouth and will not let him speak.
She tells him then, "My mother died last
week." |