THE FIRST TIME

by Lyn Lifshin

not in a marriage bed but
in a motel I could walk to
from that raised ranch my
husband and I played house
in. Virgins for years after
the wedding until I taunted
a man with words, the only
way I knew, got him to
slither in broken shoes from
another coast. I didn’t know
if he really was an ex con.
He looked like a stud. He
couldn’t believe he had me
first, rocked back on his
knees in the motel as cars
honked by. I didn’t know if
he could kill me, what I’d
get from him. Or that I
would not feel different,
would not feel much. I
looked in the mirror, felt
his tongue along my mouth.
Already I was longing for
quiet afternoons alone
while this large man who
wouldn’t fit anywhere
slogged a beer, grinned,
said he kept tasting me


*Lyn's website:
http://www.lynlifshin.com/books.htm