Sensual?

I’m Not a Child Anymore

He winked at me
From across the train car.
Not a lovely wink,
A mangled,
Wonky
Wink,
With a twitchy right eye
That makes you
Shift
Further into your coat
Like a turtle
And close your eyes
Praying for Clinton-Washington
To be the next stop
But that wink
Is lodged in your mind for the
Rest of the day
And you shudder,
Reminiscing
About the days
Before you took
The train alone
And you
Just
Ate
Lemon
Popsicles
All day
And smiled
When winked at.
But those weren’t
The same winks,
Were they?

Sex

It slipped form the mouth
Floating for a moment
At the tip of the tongue

Slowly
It
Fell,
Melting,
And it poured out
Filling up with silence
Twisting and turning
It took over the room

We were embarrassed by its indecency
As we felt its body around us
Like a misty day

The last lingering
“Ksss”
Left the mouth
And the lips remained
Open
Like a promise

Dora Grossman-Weir, Age 14, Grade 9, Saint Ann’s School, Silver Key

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