I had seen love.
A boy's kiss smacking someone's face like bird-shit –
Slap-stick, quit-wit, taste of pink lipstick.
Girls would walk in flipping their hair
Or sit staring, fixated, at the side of someone's face in some sort of
Erotic coma.
I'd seen boys beat their chests, gorillas, snort, cavort,
Their libidos cuckoos, in the nests of their boxer shorts.

And then what?
That's what I'd wonder.
One minute kisses, one minute fuck, love asunder?

Man, that wasn't what I wanted. I knew it was
A type of love that shrivelled and died like a cock just cum.
I was better. Under my skirt was a most prized, most pretty plum
That I'd leave to tenderly ripen alone, thanks very much, as one by one
The jungle fruits bruised beneath too-eager hands.

A/N: First poem uploaded! All about promiscous teens :) Please let me know what you think!