Aunt Sherline’s

A bomb exploded the afternoon I lost my virginity.
I left school in a hurry. The neat pleats in my black
mini skirt roared in the licit wind and beeps and horns
followed as I skipped past the boys in stand still traffic
on Greenmoore road. They stuck their heads out their
rolled down tinted windows. Begging for a glimpse
of my untouched peach. Their eyes leaked. I traced
through lace jitties. Tripped on a soul -I mean a shoe-
that someone had been chased out of like they do single
black mothers and I mean single in both terms. Single single
mothers deep in the heart of Atlanta Georgia. I tripped on a shoe.
Scrapped my knee and watched the chasteness bleed out of me.
When I got home he had been waiting for quite some time.
I was drowning in blood and he didn’t care. Neither did I.
My nipples rang through the paisley white barely cotton shirt
and he answered. Six minutes later another bomb went off
two doors down at Aunt Sherline’s. Mum had been round
for a spot of tea.


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