Thinking About Him Poem by Vonnie Postit

at first—
i was okay.
for the first few weeks
maybe it was months or years
(i don't remember)
i called it a seed of love
i called it proud
i called it a brag—

how many other 17 year olds could say
they hooked up with a 39 year old?
few. So few, it made me feel weird.
not that I didn't feel weird before,
i did.

every time I bragged, the words would get darker.
the room, smaller.
my body, tighter, as
the ghosts of his hands wondered my body,
searching me as I had never searched myself before.

he never asked.
(i don't remember)
he said I was sexy.
(i don't remember)
he said it was okay, he said I was okay,
confidently, as I had never felt it before.

years later, when I,
horrified and riddled with
anxiety I cannot control nor ignore,
(i say this in the present tense)
i ask my friends if I'm okay,
they wonder why I can't know that for myself.
(i don't remember ever having known)