Have you ever made out in a park?
On a cool fall afternoon,
After school?
Next to a river?
On the steep slope of the dirt path,
Knees muddy, and slowly sliding down the incline,
While he pulls you up, closer to him?
His shirt tossed aside atop the tall unkempt weeds,
And you wrapped up in a jacket
Because you’re always cold and he’s always hot?
Has he ever sat in your lap,
Or more so straddling your legs,
And your body squeezed between his strong thighs?
Have you tasted the metaly taste of blood
When you or him or both cut yourselves on his braces?
Did you wince as he ran his hands through your hair,
Now shorter than his?
Have you ever made out in a park,
Under the shade of the vine-covered oak trees?
I have.