I wanted even when I was too young
to know clitoris from slug, nipples
from Mother. He was my dream
man. My husband never-to-be. I rubbed furiously
in the bath, soap splashed, soaking the mat.
I mimicked the television,
calling Him over and over,
believed I could taste Him if I stole enough
candy, if my teeth would finally rot.
Bubble gum, vulva. It was all the same. I thought
He could taste me if I kept my finger in my mouth
long enough. I didn’t know to be afraid.