Lipstick on My Teeth

A poem about childhood sexual assault

I like when your lipstick
Gets on my teeth, colored
Red like the blood that beats
Through your veins. I like
It now when I couldn’t then–

Messy childhood play with Mother’s
Ruby-red lipstick, kissed onto each cheek
In delicate mazes of her Love.

But I never learned how to play foolishly
When it was always
Kissed onto my wet lips
By ones who never asked
If I wanted it there at all.

This was our play, slick hotness
Between my baby teeth
While Mother blotted her red lips
Ruined by kiss he gave her
Before giving me the rest.

So when my lips kiss you
Like this, gnawing and wanting
To drown in your bloodied-veins,
Don’t let me forget
That even then
I liked this taste;
And that Red
Has always been
My favorite color.