Virgin
He sprayed my hair silver, and then
he put makeup on my face, and then
he painted my nails black, and then
he gave me this lace skirt, and then
he told me I looked like Madonna.
I didn’t know how to feel, but that
feeling went away as my fingers slid under
his fishnet tunic.
He hissed in my ear,
“I want you to know how it feels.”
I was all black inside and the mirror showed me someone else
as if I was shooting for a magazine
and I had forgotten I had taken off
my t-shirt and jeans.