Innocence

Joshua Smith

Of fourteen short years and a woman am I,
Who thinks she knows the world.

Five thousand days lived to the edge,
With little looking back.

But why use the rear-view
When the windscreen promises change.

Mirrors distort, in Reality,
While Reality reflects a range,

Of surprising lessons in store for my tiny shell,
As my conscience takes a back seat.

Over speedy bumps and along smooth curves,
My eyes lead my hands.

This self-discovery I share with you,
My first eager lover.

I imagined it would be softly lit
This moment of blissful violation.

And I would call to you, with my hungry eyes,
A fragile form aching to be broken.

But as you shift gear and take control,
I am lost in a fluster of wetness.

Pressed against the sticky red vinyl,
You instruct me with a haste

That shakes my sacred heart,
And traps me beneath your domination.

A neon glow bounds from the saline beads
That drip from your shoulders.

And my mind leaves my body.
Thankfully.
To ponder what I will wear tomorrow.