Blood stained his white sheets
Our work incomplete
Best efforts to be discrete

"Did I hurt you?"
Views me as ingénue
Hands holding crimson tissues

This wasn't our first
Not near our worst
But our movements were not rehearsed

Yet I expected to bleed
Before his ever-present need
His hunger now mine to feed

It was my confession -
My exhaled expression
That left reasoning unquestioned

My linguistic fragility
Combined with pure sensibility
Caused a loss of my true virginity