Your mother pronounced you a taboo after
she saw you climbing another boy's body—
she sank all her teeth on your skin & heavy
slaps descended on you like rain.
You do not know if it's a demon or a curse
but every time you try to refuse a boy's body,
a train of desires crushes you & you rummage
for a boy's body to pour the urge.
In your mind, a girl's body is a lime—too sour like
your mother's; a stick—too hard like your sisters'.
What throws your body on fire is when a boy
creeps inside, lick your desires & make your
hormones charge like currents. Your mother
trundles headway along with you to the home
of the family's pastor. Thinks the taboo that
runs in you stems from a demon. You return
home & your mother sprinkles Holy Water
on you, mutters a prayer in
the process. Because your body is fire, & what
ignites it to glow, is to comb another body with
same propensity of fire you carry. You wish to
tell your mother that she's a drama queen. That
the miles she walks to thaw your body is a needless