He reminds me of stained restroom floors And adult bookstores from the 1980s
I go to his house for our first date His bedroom has a solo, exposed Light bulb hanging from the ceiling On an unstable string And I know how it feels
He playfully tells me to shut up Even though I wasn’t speaking And, strangely, I do
He kisses me with violent lips And I feel like we are at war
I notice his ankle bracelet The kind assigned by the court I later look online and find He is a sex offender And the best date I’ve had in months
