When we were eight and hearing about sex
for the first time, we coined a phrase for it:
“making sex.”
“Making sex” spread around that
beige 3rd grade classroom, whispered
between our candy-filled mouths in secret.
Sex would control us for all our days to come,
but we could not know that yet.
We were like reindeer before they meet Santa.
Wes Civilz lives next to a dusty cactus in Tucson, Arizona. He writes mostly poetry and nonfiction. Recent publications can be found in PANK Magazine, Entropy, decomP magazinE, and The Stockholm Review of Literature. Say hello at http://www.wescivilz.com.
Eunoia Review 
Memory and insight deftly woven. Excellent!