Already Sticky

Poundingkissingpumping, then
him trickling down my abdomen;
sun-sinking & sweaty, bracing
for my release. He waited
(his fours over mine)
but didn’t help. Touching?
He wouldn’t. He was new and I—

I was already sticky. He looked
down, into my eyes & believed
when I said I’m good. We towel-
wiped, but I showered when he left.

Bottom

That boy’s smile
opens to his molars.