by Duncan Hannah
We're sailing on lake minnetonka
at night, lakeshore nocturne
you and your girlfriend slip over the side naked
when you climbed back on board,
you sat next to me, your coltish charms
shivering in the night air.
I offered to dry you in the small cabin.
"okay" you smiled
I explored your teenage prettiness
kissed your freckled Irish face
wooed you with words
you asked "Do you want me to be your
afternoon girl, then?"
The next morning I smelled your
heavy briny aroma
on my fingers
you're a tom girl
wrong side of the tracks
a real nympho. little trouble girl.
slender and slouchy
when you had some drinks one night
you waited by the bathroom
in a decrepit lyndale apartment
and motioned for me to come over.
you put my hand in your loose
plaid boys shirt
and the other in your baggy jeans.
you snared me.
The following day you were sleeping
it off in your loft bed
while the rock band rehearsed.
a filmy nightie like Carroll Baker in Baby Doll
my erection made a little tent
in my white tennis shorts.
I put your hand on it.
You came around; your motor started
you seek completion in another.
I stop by your house after summer school.
I go up to your gabled room
you're still in bed, you're unusually accommodating
pull the covers aside
say "why don't you get in here" and join me.
I'm your new plaything
Or is your recent woman's body
the new plaything. You want to try it out.
You're a foreign exchange student
It's the all-night graduation party
we're rushing on psychedelics
steal off to the golf course
we mingled on the crest of a fairway
under the stars
We're squished in a crowd at a led zeppelin concert.
you smell of patchouli oil
and have merry eyes.
We share some Pernod
Our squishing leads to feeling
your large breasts through your
We let the crowd push us this way
and that, our genitals pressed together.
I confess I'd been looking for you,
and you answer by slipping your
tongue in my mouth.
You strip for me as if presenting me with gifts
this is for you.
we're a little drunk.
a little high.
we crave each other.
we startle ourselves.
we hear bells.
in a little room in a men's dorm.
we climb into a single bed
warm ourselves under cold sheets.
we're forced to abstain
but we're petting
and you confessed your fantasy
of bringing me off orally.
you shyly did it twice
In your mother's house.
you lock your legs around me.
with your tiny-curled mouse.
sixteen and cross-eyed.
we must hurry
in case your mom comes home.
she doesn't know you do this.
you luxuriate in your sensuality
it's the time you feel most in control
We're obsessed with androgyny.
consider ourselves sexual equals.
so when you masturbate me
it has the extra thrill
of an illicit boys school incident
we trade pleasures casually.
we live for sensation