The Ballad of Sexual Adventure

When I was saved
the first time, I lay
on a trampoline
with his hand
down my cut-offs,
excused the action
with a sigh of summer
and another long-drawn
breath to follow.  Don't go
to sleep, why you gotta
go to sleep when the dark
unfolds like petals
under heat summer
summer—exhale—expand
to fill the space between
stars fallen silent, dark,
another hole punched
in the sky's sparse light.
And when you say summer
in your sigh, what you really say
is I have been a spent match
head & the answer to every opening
must be yes so I said it
all without thinking
& fell open like a flower
one day closer to dead.


by Emily O’Neill

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Emily O'Neill is a proud Jersey girl who tells loud stories in her inside voice because she wants to keep you close. Her most recent work is present or forthcoming in Sugar House Review, Weave Magazine, Whiskey Island, Paper Darts, and FRiGG Magazine. You can pick her brain at http://emily-oneill.com.