I am young here—barely grown for long, young for longer.

I claw at the seeds of confidence while you walk with a blooming saunter.

Chew your gum the way you do,

I sit on my hands and whisper-ask, “Will you spit it in my mouth so it’s just us two?”

Crumble the wrapper and hand it to me.

My smile won’t quite reach as you watch my girlish eyes plea.

Your kind—beauties of the flesh, not mind—say “I l...