when i was small
my satin thighs
still stained in snow
untouched and wise

kept them closed
tucked in and nice
like a good girl would
with flustered eyes

somehow, i
still had to wonder
what it felt like
made me shudder

utter
stutters
hunters, youngsters

thrusting
lusting
rough and tight
busting
something
day and night

growing older
i dimmed the lights
on mattresses rusting
in hotel room nights

these days my story
isn’t quiet and right
filled with mourns
and shorts
pulled down ever so slight

these days i wander
in alleys and arms
of men and monsters
oh,
but believe me
they got their charms