Virgin Territory

A Collection of First Time Haikus

What []_[] Want | Dhali Wama | March 2, 2016

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Lavender-scented candles and Marvin Gaye lyrics permeated the room. The parents were gone for some inexplicably convenient length of time and your inexperienced bodies moved with the sexual grace of R. Kelly’s lyrics; but not his newer stuff, those harmonies are not great. You each knew exactly where to put what and for how long. Perfectly hairless in all the right places–but not too hairless in those other places. You both climaxed with the precision of synchronized swimmers and then said I love you for the first time. Nobody got pregnant. Or Chlamydia.

HA. Nobody’s first time went the way they envisioned it and if their story even slightly resembles the above passage–which clearly only belongs within the deeply fictitious folds of a Nicholas Sparks movie adaptation–then they are lying. Or they are still trying to convince themselves the backseat of a Honda Civic in the K-Mart parking lot was romantic. Which is much worse.

The following haiku poems reflect the moments these UM students traded in their untouched innocence for a less-than-assuring grunt:

Uh, is it in yet?

Not sure about all the hype.

Oh, that thing is small…

-S.A.

Boobs felt like sandbags.

No idea what I’m doing.

I bet sex is nice.

-J.H.

Post blacklight party,

Highlighter whiskers drawn on.

Cats need some love too.

-S.B.

He moans like a girl.

Wish I was at Taco Bell.

He’ll cum, and I’ll leave.

-M.D.

In my best friend’s bed.

Can you please relax right now?

Stop sweating, it’s gross.

-A.G.

I broke my headboard,

He watched a basketball game,

I laughed when he came.

-J.S.

His name was Spanish?

On friend’s lawn…is it in yet?

This shit should not count.

-S.K.

T Swift’s got it down,

Fifteen wanting to believe.

Horse shit, close those legs.

-R.T.

Small kids at the door,

The best kind of birth control.

Thank god for condoms.

-L.M.

The lights are turned low,

Mattress screeches like a cat.

It’s my best friend’s bed.

-K.V.

First we smoked a J,

Then f*cked in his brother’s bed.

Then smoked one more J.

-A.R.

Five-year-old condom.

Your sex face is a turn off.

This isn’t like porn.

-M.D.

Ex’s best friend.

He was cute, wanted revenge.

Dating him now…oops.

-L.C.

I don’t remember.

It’s really for the better,

He had a small dick.

-J.S.

Cold December night,

So our pants kept mostly on.

Is that even right?

-B.H.

Thank god it’s so dark.

Hope this hole is the right one.

Now Dad knows I’m straight.

-C.D.

Here’s to hoping you brave and honest poets have since had a more pleasurable lay. And here’s to you, our first time partners, for breaking down those barriers so that we may immediately move on to bigger and better things. Definitely bigger. At least 2 inches bigger.