My heart beat prematurely and my careful kiss went wide and I lost points. It was my leap-year birthday and I came home early to an incomplete surprise, no candles on the cake and my well-wishers poorly hidden, and I was in charge of natural selection and conducting electricity and I made sure my flatfish had both eyes on one side and I time-traveled there and when I touched my mother's hair it felt like lacquer. Yours is soft.
Free passes cat-called the asses
of us. Pervy carnies snuck some in
the fastest rides: Matterhorn, Blue
Streak, The Zipper, and The Hell
Hole. It sprouted our hair. It curled
our lips. It unfastened all the boys
in strange, deep voices. Girls squealed
around dangerous curves. Curiosities
of pulsing, of youth, of the delicious ache
from eating too many sweets. Secret glands
held hands and hormones swaggered
the midway like cool kids in new jeans.