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.