Just Touch It

I thought you were so cool:

An older, firefighting hero, a senior.

You seemed to wink at me,

An upwards, devilish glance

Across a circle of kneeling, head-bowed bodies.


You said you liked smooth skin,

So before your maroon truck pulled up,

I shaved in the little half-bath downstairs,

My parents snoring behind a wall.


You rubbed my legs like a cold Buddha statue for luck,

In hopes you’d get what you wanted, not

For the feel of it.

A boy once said to me,


A girl will do anything

If you ask her at 3am.

You weren’t that boy,

But somebody must’ve told you.


I didn’t ask to see it.

I didn’t want to touch it.

I wanted soft fingers on my face,

I wanted to feel

Your lips on mine. You said baby,


You turn me on, come on,

Just put your hands around it.

Just put your hands around it,

Just stroke it a little bit.

Just touch it.


The seat divider jabbed into me,

An imaginary elbow saying, “don’t.”

I asked you to kiss me,

You said no,

Kissing is too personal.


I don’t remember the smell of your cum,

But I can guess it now: Sour, rotten.

I don’t remember what it looked like,

Except that it bobbed up and down

Like an ugly buoy.


It happened more than once,

A ritual, you must have practiced,

You were a lay minister, you knew

The words, the motions.


When you weren’t asking for it,

You were telling me about

Her, that perfect girl you couldn’t snare.

I wanted to be that girl,

The one you kissed.


Just kiss me,

Just kiss me,

Just kiss me,

My begging was silent, unlike yours:


Just put your hands around it,

Just put your hands around it.

Just stroke it a little,

Just touch it.

18 thoughts on “Just Touch It”

  1. fridayam

    I though it was starting a little too like prose, but my God it turned into a sharp and beautifully modulated poem, with images of fire and remembrance. Really well done, Penny x

  2. Dan

    Yes. Men are like that. But the kiss. Always the greatest mystery to me. You are right.
    More poetry!
    Made me think of a great book about a guy asking for it. Do sometimes read My Life And Loves by Frank Harris (1856-1931), an erotic classic and true bio; the most popular banned book of 100 yrs ago. But he was kind, AND pro women and pro sex AND responsible as a man way before his time. Yes, and a gentleman. And he got lucky often! Was able to get the ladies to take their bloomers down before anybody ever thought they would.


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