Ramble 115: Two girls in the park and one story

I’d like to thank the boy who when he was thirteen

decided to touch me.

It may sound a bit disturbing at first

but it was the closest thing I felt to a Disney princess.

He was my Mr. Q and I was his Lolita,

And our romance was two summers of me feeling like a wanton whore.

 

At least I got to touch a boy before you did,” she smiled.

I smiled back.

“It was my first time. I saw his fat rubbery ______ hanging from his pajama pants.

We called it play-time, I called it my love story.”

 

He was my frog in disguise, I was his fat princess.

It was perfect until I realized how small it was.

So I pray to God at night

for the next time to be at least gentler and bigger.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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