It was never something apart,
something I could talk about,
say. Oh, I like that. I didn't
even know what it was
until I met him. I was
more than innocent, I was
dumb.
For me it was something we did
together, like movies and bowling
and shopping and taking little trips,
I loved it because I loved him.
He always said he wanted to make
me happy, and I wanted him to be
happy, and that was far as I
could talk about it.
Well, whatever we were doing
went on six years until one day
he says he wants a divorce,
tells the judge I'm sex-crazy,
I'm like a whore, he says,
says I could write a book
about sex. Hah!
Everything I know about sex
you could write on a matchbook.
Same goes for what
I know about men.