You’ll only be twelve or maybe thirteen or so,
somewhere around there, and all of a sudden
your breasts will start rising to the surface
like swans to the cool upper skin of a pond.
And inside your underwear, unwrapped
like a gift, you’ll find a circle of red that makes
you think of all those Stephen King horror stories
where the main character bleeds to death-
but don’t worry, honey, a little blood is always good.
And while you can chase off all the boys who don’t want
to hold you after sex, sometimes you can’t chase off
the ones who don’t know the difference between fucking
and making love. But when you’re having your first time,
honey, I’ll be up in my bedroom, reading a book
while the bed in some other house creaks, and I’ll be
rooting for you every step of the way.
If they ever made a seismograph of your heart, every beat
would be an 8.3 on the Richter scale-and a girl whose heart
beats that loud can always be found when she’s lost in the dark,
because that thump, thump, badum
could trick anyone into believing
they’ve just heard a thunderstorm.