Lauren Bender
oh friend, I’m sure you would not have hesitated
in the hallway like I did
when a boy wanted to kiss me, because kissing
after a while
becomes like learning to walk, where you don’t
think too much
about it, there is simply a table or chair or
other piece of furniture
you use to pull yourself to your legs at last,
feels like forever
you have been waiting for those steps, then
another forever
for the softness of someone else’s lips
on yours, nervous, at the door
as you’re saying goodbye, this was nice, thank you
for the bear, I’ll see you
at school tomorrow? but then there was only
my palm lifting
in what was meant to be a wave but I knew
was also, secretly, stop,
this is not right, this is not right,
and him waving back
as if he was not thinking of every girl
in our class who had graduated
from not kissing to kissing to hand jobs
long ago, of, dear lord,
someone easier, and me telling myself
when it’s right, I’ll know,
right? when it’s the right time, I’ll
…just know? because
it had to be that I was not ready,
this the only explanation
I could offer myself, one year before
the lips of my best friend
as she lay beside me on the bed became
all I could think about, and
never once am I ready for this step, but
oh god, how much longer? now?
Lauren Bender lives in Burlington, VT. Her work has appeared in IDK Magazine, The Collapsar, Gyroscope Review, Pittsburgh Poetry Review, Yes Poetry, and others. You can find her on twitter @benderpoet.