Secret spot

The first time I made myself cum

I remember thinking 

I can’t wait to tell my future husband about this 

this secret spot 

that is definitely unique to me

that he definitely won’t know anything about 

and how I like it swirled and wet. 

Hilarious.

In the fantasy we were in a telephone booth in a diner

wood paneled, orange glow.

He was shirtless with rockin’ hard pecs

and short chestnut hair combed back 

like the men on the cover of my aunt’s romance novels. 

I was probably six,

and I envy that six-year-old’s determination to get her needs met! 

Her certainty 

that a husband was in her future, 

and that her future husband would do exactly as she said –

swirled and wet!

I’m glad she didn’t know 

that secret spot 

would be the site of so much 

[flips through rolodex of countless sexual encounters, sighs, shuts the file]  

because for a few years 

she just got to enjoy herself

with ease

simplicity

and a mind unaware

that even the thoughtful “husbands”

who really want to swirl it good and wet it right

will fuck it up from time to time,

and that people really trying and nevertheless failing

will be the most painful of all.