AUTOMATIC TRANSMISSION
I’ve never been a girl to make plans
Beyond about a week in advance
Some girls have their whole lives
Laid out like a spreadsheet
Instead I lay myself out
Samir’s fingers tracing
The curve of my naked hip
On a blood-spotted white sheet
Are you okay? he says, wide-eyed
Neither of us expected our reunion
To find us tearing at each other’s clothes
In the narrow staircase.
He rested his hand on my thigh
As he drove us home from school
And I slid his fingers up and up until
His face flushed hot.
We kissed at the mudroom door and fell inside
Latching the lock behind us
Tumbling upward with arms and legs
And lips and tongues entwined.
It was unplanned and unprepared for.
And Samir is surprised by the blood
I thought you and David might have…
I told you we’re just friends, I say.
Though in my mind David flickers
Brightly and briefly.
The half-naked boy next to me
Is enough distraction.
We should have used a condom, Samir says
Grave and shamed
Are you on the pill?
I reassure him: the wrong time of month etc.
Though worry niggles at me
I’ll deal with it tomorrow
I know where the clinic is
Every smart girl does.
Samir curls his arm around me
And pulls me close
I’ve missed you so much, habibti
He says, I love you.
Can we be back together?
Can it be like it was?
We won’t do this again if you don’t want.
We can pretend it never happened.
I stroke his nascent beard
Breathing in his sweaty sweetness
And touch him, everywhere
Claiming all of him back to me.