Of places of convenience
Are stacked with pink niceties
Under yellow rays
Of electric bulbs.
A little index points at the pink niceties
“Mommy? What are those?”
A deep breath and a sigh
Is all I can mouth.
She washes her pink palms
At the white sink
And I wish that my pink tongue
Was not glued behind my white teeth.
The pink wraps are condoms.
I am relieved my answer was satisfactory
When she walks out ahead of me,
Pink shoes flashing lights
With each foot step.
“Mommy? What are condoms used for?”
A flashed face and sweaty palms
Meet as I tag at my fore brains
For a satisfactory answer.
Do you know what sex is?
I am terrified her answer was satisfactory.