One man drove an imaginary car
down my arms and legs, over
the enormous hill of my ass.
Another pretended to squeeze
his semen out of me by pressing
down on my belly, my breasts.
He also asked "is it safe?"
like the dentist in Marathon Man,
when I had my period.
Other boyfriends must have
made other jokes, but I have
forgotten all of them. The jokes,
and the boyfriends, and the sex --
all consigned to the bottom tissue
in the Kleenex box of my brain.