This is a sort of riff on a previous poem:

A Natural History of Thumbs

          my first kiss, a sea lion, sloppy,
slack lips against trembling 
fish-colored tongues,
...

saliva sliding over our chins until my electric
blue tube top is wet, a slick between my white
ten year-old breasts, so new they still ache with being born, 
riven with blue veins
...

me laying on top of the sea lion during recess 
in the center lawn of the school, 
    not caring if anyone saw,
not caring if the principal came and tore me
off him, everything gone warm and gone black
...

only this wormy mess of teeth clicking
against teeth, his whiskers in my mouth,
          fast as slugs
on speed and a burning 
...

           in my cunt, I grind against the sea lion trying to feel 
through the 16 layers of my panties, jeans, apron 
        and lead skirt, grinding so hard the sea lion whimpers
in pain, grinding to grind out the burning
between my legs, it is the strangest fucking
...

I've ever felt and I can't stop,            I can't, 
                 I hold the sea lion down by his flippers,
push his head far into the earth with my mouth
...

he’s trying to squirm free, the lawn churning into
wet mud,                    I’m pushing, moving,
the sun so bright I can see it behind 
     my closed lids,  a small planet
               spinning in my pelvis
...

then he slips from beneath me, 
wipes his mouth on the grass, waddles away fast and 
...

that’s the first time I know it, that to love
       is to be left wet and holding