Sonnet no. saliva
Aaron Ricciardi
Excerpts from FAN: Forever Aaron and Nichole, a crown of sonnets
The scent of your saliva was a bitch
the way it lingered ‘til I went to sleep,
affixed there by you, teacher, at my Jeep
at one-fifteen, past curfew. Like an itch,
the odor haunts me now. It’s almost wood,
and also French perfume, abuse, and gum.
You taught me that the secret’s in the thumb.
I worry most that, at your heart, you’re good.
I know that you were wrong. I’m strong. I’m yours,
forever in your classroom in your clutch.
The other night, I go to lick the neck
of some new guy, and, when I do, he purrs,
like you would purr—the smell—and it’s too much.
The guy would never know, but I’m a wreck.