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A Wet Daydream

By Nadia Sheikh

I let Shane Kennedy
reach back in his desk
to fondle my calf,
soft and buttery
after the first shave,
hoping he wouldn’t say
Moslem again, wouldn't
ask, So your dad’s
a professional terrorist?

                 I wish
I’d unstitched the seams
of my skort, lured him
into a bathroom stall,
bit his lip ‘til he bled
and had torn my shirt off—
a ticking bomb strapped
to my training bra—
and let him lick me,
made him swallow.

Added: Tuesday, January 20, 2015  /  Sheikh's poem is the Third Place Winner of the 2015 Split This Rock Annual Poetry Contest, generously adjudicated by Natalie Diaz.