Do not love me yet, for I
     am still a teenager
          A scimitar about the heart,
                too sharp to touch too soon
                      Before I'm touched, I need to grow
                more full in golden light;
          I need to smile upon my life
     & rule some path of the night
          I need to know what roads & fields
                lie in my domain
                      & dull my brand new ecstasies
                              with sophomoric pain
                                     I need the love of some clueless boy
                              as smart & wicked as me,
                      that we might ***** in ignorance
                             & fear of what might be
                                    & then when I'm all grown up,
                                           & know what I can hold,
                                     Then, perhaps, we could try love,
                               if you're not too old