a poem a day for a year #115

by Amy Turn Sharp


My first taste of erotica was Lady Chatterley's Lover when I was too young to study any social class themes or really understand much else but how the way the words lined up on the page and made me feel woozy. I read the small hardback loaner copy on the green grass lawn outside of my sexually advanced friend's house. Of course it was Spring and the fuel of a million years pumped through me. I closed my eyes and knew that life was like this. I pushed on the corner of the book with my pointer finger until it hurt. My friend laughed and laughed. She said it was about time that I found love. I nodded my head up and down and placed the book in my satchel. My hair shined on purpose. I grew up like a speed demon by the time July turned her back on me.