a calling.

i have long written myself off
as chewed nails and split ends
but maybe there is beauty beyond
faded seventeen
and cosmo will be proclaimed
a bible of lies

somewhere between that girl
you know and that girl you
jerk off to and that girl
who serves you your dinner
sexlessly, her power to enrapture
out of touch, concealed
and healed and only released
only allowed to lash
with precise consideration
and no longer youthful
plunder, asunder
to that age-wizened
spread

she contours

to the shape
and the angles
of your bed

but not in your head
you are too young
to know which way
the shadows should lay
and how to caress
and seduce
the slightest, subtlest
most authentic
moan

between them all
that viper's strike
a flattened spring
waiting
the fall
the saunter
of her prey
between miss homecoming queen
and mrs. robinson

yes between her
and the playboy centerfolds
and the teenage fumblings
between the Maxim count downs
and the crust on your thumb
yes between them all
between fantasy and school marm

lies me
waiting for you.