Teacher’s Pet

Innocence exuded from her blue eyes,
though the tears left stains like tire track in cement,
her intent was to cleanse herself of his insensitivity,
inability to reach a joined fertility was the root issue,
boxes of tissue lasted seconds in her presence,
needing pleasant words,
he interrupted, “Ms. Baker, what’s wrong?”

His youthful voice sounding like songbirds
playing along picket fences in the summer time,
he was understand, kind, willing to listen to her
inner turmoil brought about by an impatient love,
one found in the places where men who define
their masculinity by numbers offspring born dwell,
a living Hell was to put it mildly…

She was an extension of him, left her family inheritance
along with her self-pride chasing false hopes of being
his bride one day, it was a lonely day until she responded,
“Nothing, but during times like these, I wish life was still
a breeze, wish there were still big oak trees I could run to,
climb, escape in the shade…”

He interrupted, “You’re talking about a safe place to play?”

“Yes, one where I can lay, relax, re-visit my innocence,”
Responded Ms. Baker.

This is the point where his innocence expired, elapsed,
truncated, dissipated, hibernated,
where the two became one,
ill-fated, maybe, then again,
interracial love at second sight is blind,
especially when paying attention to a teacher
equals straight A’s,
equals straight haze,
equals Purple rain falling from the sweat of his brow,
while losing virginity atop his 8th grade sweetheart,
too bad those “I love you” calls swiftly turned to “rape” banter,
equaling the removing off black cancer encased within
curious brown skin, teenaged, dangling in the southern wind
later that night…

…this is the price of being the teacher’s pet.