This poem is about one of my first sexual encounters at 16. It wasn’t my first time (oh no, that one hurt like hell,) but it was with my first partner. While I had my fair share of self conscious moments at that age, this particular experience was spontaneous and uninhibited and one of my favorite first sexual moments.


Giddy and giggling, you slide
my snug blue-jeans, as I rip
off your soft blue polo shirt, you sigh
and pull a blue square out
of my purse, and for a moment I am

a little girl again, hiding
in a closet, shaky
fingers sliding a newfound
condom on a banana, wide eyes
watching latex swallow
fruit, when you un-snap my bra and snap

me back to your
fingers on my sixteen year old breasts, I beg
you to feel my ripened legs, fuck,
how do you do that?

Outside, rain swallows the park, inside
the car is quiet and dry, so quiet
rain drops echo in thunder, too quiet
for clothes. Desperate for wetness, we
jump out of the car and into

the waterfall, white long sleeves, see
through shirt, no pants no
bra, boxers, panties
fall to ankles, dark
brown hair on blonde, water and
tongue in my ears, icy raindrops like
bombs, exploding on bare
skin, noses, backs, necks, thighs,
fingers, eyes, lips, chests, hips

We lie on a picnic table alter, rain
sliding between our bodies like
oil, it smells like grass and dew and
sex and time goes
by as slow as

I can hear the warm
air in our
in and out,
clear, wet

2 thoughts on “Rain”

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