INCEPTION She asks, wants him to be the first. As if the other were a ripened peach, easily bruised, they time their movements to the ancient pulse of hearts then seas. Sharp tears through hidden flesh steal her breath. They stop, begin again, relentless clock counts towards curfew. Soothed by his hot sweet breath, she rests in his embrace— linear time shifts to the relative distance between innocence and experience— she arches, accepts whispers fingers lips as he eases her through surmountable pain. Her chrysalis rips, new life emerges: the harsh sun scent of clary sage wings drying in a warm breeze.
Thank you to the editors of Hot Flashes: sexy little stories and poems for first publishing this poem.