I listen to him talk to me.
He nibbles my neck and whispers
“you know I’d do anything for you baby”
as his hands rub circles on my lower back
pulling me closer to his manhood.
I know it’s there and I feel it. My pulse quickens.
I push back.
“My mom,” I say, “I’m late.” He sighs
and warms up his car. Mom’s word
trumps all—a gift unwrapped today.
That boy takes you away
and you lose track
of everything about pushing hard—
that’s what Mom says.
My older friend Raven warns,
“It takes little to stir the serpent
and get it to relinquish its charms.
Think twice! Stirred up serpents strike.
Do not invite what you cannot take.”
"You know I’ll do anything for you baby,"
sets off snake charming signals that
form bitter pools of spit in my mouth.
That boy’s car announces itself blocks before he
pulls up to my place, and I know it’s over
before we hit the curb. With no glance back,
I run to the door and enter the security of Mom
who never asks, but offers mocha milkshakes
and a night of heart-rending chick flicks,
so the tears won’t feel like my own.