I was a sophomore;
Jana was a freshman.
I'd never had sex;
neither had she.
On January 13th, 1995,
Jana's mom allowed her a date
at my foster parent's home.
We listened to Jodeci
and awkwardly steered
above a bridge
of conversations,
staring at the ceiling
through heavy breathing.
It'd been the first time
we'd been this close.
Close enough to smell
Jana's breath and her mine.
Close enough to smell
her body and her mine.
Close enough to see her breasts
and place a pillow over my lap,
hoping she wouldn't see a rise.
Jana covered her mouth,
laughing, telling me
she saw what I was hiding.
I blushed.
Jana blushed.
She scooted closer to me;
my breathing had become heavy.
Jana inched her fingers closer.
I reached, and our fingers touched,
and then our hands embraced.
She leaned in for a kiss;
I'll miss the target.
I swallowed spit
and a lump in my throat.
And I turned my head,
shivering with terror.
We kissed,
and my timidity receded.
Janna removed her tight shirt
and tucked her bangs behind her ear.
I felt momentum free fall
as she shoved me onto her bed.
Jana climbed on my body,
kissing me like a soldier
going to a faraway land.
We tangled,
with hearts burning,
in the bedsheets.
Jana's mom pushed
through my door
like a thief on a black Christmas,
giving me the stare of a serial killer.
We talked after her mom hit
the sack.
Jana moaned through the phone
with an orgasm I could only imagine.
Her makeup stained my pillowcase.
I hugged the large fluffy headrest,
inhaling her scent,
well into the night.
YOU ARE READING
The Lonely Position of Neutral
PoetryBen's throat cancer has returned. Living a lonely life, he found a woman he loves but finds out she's been unfaithful. Ben starts to think the lonely position of neutral isn't that bad. He writes poems and dialogue narratives. Will Ben survive cance...
