Virgin/Whore/Mother/I by Sam Cobbler
How did you ask him to fuck you?, she asks.
Why are you flinching? Fuck is just a word.
I wasn't thinking about you when I fucked him, mother.
Nowadays, someone better.
You don't understand how his shoulder brings comfort,
even when his elbow nudges me in my sleep. He's warm.
I don't dream of opening elevators
and hanging, dripping womencorpses.
Not when I'm sleeping next to him, every night,
not until I came here, with you.
His semen is warm, too. I like it on me. Don't make me the victim.
I want this, every time.
His lips in a line, but I can see when he smiles
and it's because of me.
I wasn't thinking about you when I fucked him, mother
You bathed me, changed me, wiped me, when I was nine years old. Too old.
You held a pillow to my face every night when I dreamed.
You eat spinach for lunch, and your tiny bones clutch me,
your baby, your baby, mama mama you'll never leave.
I don't need to feel dirty. Yes, I've scrubbed my neck.
Inspect my mouth for cavities.
You look at me and you see my open cunt.
Yes, I washed the backs of my hands today. Yes, I sucked her nipple.
And stop.
Sam Cobbler is a student and writer. She could say
she likes winter the best of all, but she would be lying.
Why are you flinching? Fuck is just a word.
I wasn't thinking about you when I fucked him, mother.
Nowadays, someone better.
You don't understand how his shoulder brings comfort,
even when his elbow nudges me in my sleep. He's warm.
I don't dream of opening elevators
and hanging, dripping womencorpses.
Not when I'm sleeping next to him, every night,
not until I came here, with you.
His semen is warm, too. I like it on me. Don't make me the victim.
I want this, every time.
His lips in a line, but I can see when he smiles
and it's because of me.
I wasn't thinking about you when I fucked him, mother
You bathed me, changed me, wiped me, when I was nine years old. Too old.
You held a pillow to my face every night when I dreamed.
You eat spinach for lunch, and your tiny bones clutch me,
your baby, your baby, mama mama you'll never leave.
I don't need to feel dirty. Yes, I've scrubbed my neck.
Inspect my mouth for cavities.
You look at me and you see my open cunt.
Yes, I washed the backs of my hands today. Yes, I sucked her nipple.
And stop.
Sam Cobbler is a student and writer. She could say
she likes winter the best of all, but she would be lying.