Don’t worry. Don’t worry. I am going to turn myself in.
This shit was worse than the original sin.
I guess I gotta start checking and feelin’
And especially know when to say when.
It was so small I felt like a pedophile.
I don’t know what to do now.
Do I lay here and rub one out.
Or should I Let him know and gracefully bow out.
I know that men have an ego too
And society says that we should not bruise
But fuck society I don’t pay dues.
And apparently this motherfucker didn’t know the rules.
Why do they pay so much attention to Viagra?
When there is money needed in the diasporas?
Education has gone down the drain.
And then we get stuck fucking with the lames.
I needed him to stay in his lane and I guess I was caught off
guard by his eloquence and frame.
But I digress.
This mess started out as a great conversation.
Then without reservation or hesitation
I was ready to take a vacation with no mention of money making
And I thought he was faking until he made a move that was breathtaking
And really caught me off guard.
I thought surely he jest
And it was my request
That we do what is best
So we could just
Be friends because this feeling was a little off.
Now usually I allow my intuition to lead but Da Truth had other ambitions
She said try him out and get me out of this drought and we will both be better for it.
Little did she know that she has no eyes to see
And if she did, this would never be.
Because I am looking at something miniscule indeed and
it is hard not to laugh and roll over.
So I will take a chance and kindly get up
And in the restroom feign an illness.
I will redress myself and provide a hug and my cheek I will give him to kiss.
I will ask for a rain check and tell him that the next
Time will be on me
I just hope that I don’t forget not to answer the phone
The next time that it rings.

© 2017 Iris Perkins. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

About the Author Iris Perkins

Appearing from a unicorn fart and cascading glitter, Iris Perkins is a writer who does not like to be put in a box. She has three slogans: “I write sex from my imagination so you don’t have to use yours.” “Allow my inner freak to live vicariously through you.” “You’re welcome to use my words to get you laid.”

A daughter, mother, sister, cousin, friend, and confidante who aspires to inspire those who come into contact with her. She is also the voice of everyone’s little freak on the inside. It took a journey to get here and her journey is still taking place.

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