YesikaSalgado

He. Christmas. Seventeen. You. Virgin. Sixteen. A garage. His father’s. Rolled up carpets. Beneath bodies. Your hands. His jeans. Unbuckled. Your knees. Soft lips. Mouth. Brand-new. No one. Knew. Secret tongue. He hard. You closed. Eyes. Taste. Salt. Skin. Found. Something. Mouth full. Throat. Slide. Warm. His hand. Your face. You kiss. His love. Dark. Good. Dark. Warm. Virgin. Still. Still You. Still yours. Keep. Him. Keep you. Your mouth does what the rest of you pretends has yet to happen. Him. Taste. Still. After. Days. Remember. You. You. You. You. Virgin. You. Christmas. “She, smiles like The Virgin doesn’t she?” your mother said when you returned to the dinner table.