Crank (Crank 1)

meager protests with

full-lipped kisses.

He insists, Now.

She resists, “Later.”

He, Promise?

She, “Cross my heart.”

She Went Inside

I wasn’t sure if I felt more

disappointed or relieved.

Guinivere really had him.

So I shouldn’t want him. Should I?

I didn’t really want his perfect

pout, reaching hungrily

for my own timid lips.

I didn’t have a clue how to kiss.

Didn’t really want his hands,

investigating the hills

and valleys of my landscape.

I’d never been touched by a boy.

Didn’t want his face,

burrowing into my hair,

finding my neck. Tasting.

I’d never even said hello to such a complete stranger.

Didn’t want his smoke,

making me gag, making me

want to taste something so gross.

It was all so confusing, I mean,

I didn’t want a boyfriend,

no summer fling to make

me want to stay in this alien place.