I asked my husband to pick a poem from my developing series on love, sex and relationships. This is what he chose:
The First Girl
Fumbling over a gear shift, I found your tongue, your hurt, the origami art beneath your skirt and I a scientist used to dealing with hard facts. I hadn’t the courage to unfold you fully. Weeks later, at a party, you saw my interest wax on another girl and made a megaphone of your mouth— Your summit flag soon whipped to shreds in bitter winds.
by Michelle Beltano Curtis
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All Rights Reserved. “First Girl” may not be reprinted without permission.