Girl Secrets And Boy Secrets Poem by James McLain

girls lie to
even in rest
looking down the flat plain
velvet peach fuzzed
stomach
past the twin peaks of my nipples
two erasers
without some yellow
wooden pencil
number three lead, is too softy
down to the mound of my panties
where my nose is barely
but barely
it always is
never the less
thinking not too much of it
but then who ever does any more
like most whom are honest they do
and still sore from
that which was around it, 'last
and my nose is so sore that even
i must liberally apply
a strawberry liniment around it
circular a raisin
my nose thinking i, in fashion still
before against the fresh cotton pillow
it can rest
while i listen to the other girls
cry as they,
lie with their lips, all around me.