Stained With Blood Poem by David Oladipupo Olorunshola

I have not done it before,
Though, I know
There will be a first time
Mother has always said
That day,
That I will be deflowered,
That very first time
It will be memorable
So beautiful; so adorable
Just between the two
Of us; to be shared
To be treasured with
That singular individual,
That makes my heart
Sing like a bird;
The one I can call
My heart throb, with
Goose bumps all over.
I am waiting for that day,
There will be a white cloth
To mark that day,
A stained white cloth,
Stained with blood.
Signifying my cover intact
A delight for him,
Not only giving
My heart, my love
My cover;
But my all.