He called me his girlfriend before I knew
what it would mean. I knew I belonged to him
as friends do belong to one another
yet something else was expected that I couldn't decipher.
He was a handsome Mexican boy, a mustache of peach fuzz
and a serious, rough demeaner that drew me in.
I was magnetized, a pattern later to be repeated in life.
Curious to touch his scuffed, mocha-brown skin and thick hair,
I yearned to caress him but kept my eyes low, green eyes
that flashed giggles, and Irish freckles dappling ivory white skin.
Sun kissed hair flying straight and strawberry blond.
Skin of white silk against the wild deep, dark, and dangerous.
His broken English intrigued me, spicy hot words
spoken like a bullet train I had to catch. I was quiet
as his temper could flare like water thrown on hot grease-temper, temper!
This intrigued me. Volatile and passionate,
fuel for his rocket of adolescent rage.
After school he would take me by the hand and lead me
to a dark, dank and cool place smelling of wet earth and dust
beneath a foreign house and kiss me as we locked eyes sternly.
I tingled all over with excitement, guilt, and worry.
What would he do to me, the passionate Jose?
He always pulled out his magazine of naked ladies
and he would explain like a doctor, anatomically
as if they were his, like I was his for giving him pleasure.
I would look then turn away, only there to kiss and plunder the depths
of his angry Latin eyes.
Riding bikes through a field, he grabbed my wrist and marched me
into the canopy where trees slumbered and stooped.
"Lay down," he commanded in broken English.
I didn't want to lay down among the marshy, pointed reeds.
I protested as he pushed me down and laid on top of me.
We kissed until I got worried about snakes hiding in the grass.
Jumping up, I bolted for my bike, but he was fast.
In a field of gold, we were yelling.
Jose's fist sailed through the air landing hard.
When I awoke, he was stooped over me.
"I didn't mean to." All Jose's say that.
Revenge was coiled up in me and ready to strike.
Crunch, crack! He flew back when my punch landed straight and true.
Jose laughed, although his nose was bloody. "We are even now,"
he conceded. "You are strong for a girl."
I knew I would never trust him again. He had knocked me out
because I couldn't be controlled. Suddenly
his darkness didn't attract me. Jose was a dangerous jungle animal
whose stripes had hypnotized me. Be careful,
I said to myself, with exotic pets.
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