Excerpts from FAN: Forever Aaron and Nichole, a crown of sonnets
The guy would never know, but I’m a wreck
when spooning, since my arm has to be tucked
beneath his pillow. Suddenly I’m sucked
back home—fifteen, sixteen—when mom would check
to see if we—my teacher and her boy—
were cooing on our phones too late at night
again when I should be asleep. We’d fight
if I got caught, so I devised this ploy:
I’d hide my Razr like you do a tooth,
and play-act like my dad face-down in bed.
My tired mom would creep in, then she’d feel
beneath the down and case, and find the truth.
“Hang up with her!” and then she’d kiss my head,
with lips the very opposite of steel.