The Taste of Soap

There's soap in my mouth.

And my fathers words in my ears.

There's a timer in front of me,

That ticks ever so slowly.

And when it finally sounds at 0:00

I spit like the boy who sits behind me in history.

Only what comes out of his mouth

Is brown like the soda that should be

In the empty bottle in his hand.

I end up

Hiccuping Bubbles.

All for saying a four letter word,

That no one my age should say.

My mother overheard me say it to

The boy next door.

She whisked me away

And for a moment I thought she'd whip me with a hickory.

I couldn't help it,

Sometimes magma bubbles inside of you,

And before you can cover your mouth

It spews out.

I just didn't realize how much of a

Curse word it was,

Until I saw the shock on everyone's face.

The surprise on his,

With eyes wide open.

The catty women chattering,

About my character.

The mortification on my mothers face.

All over a single word.

And when I got home, my mother

Made me repeat it to my father,

Who got all red in the face

As he said,

"Take her upstairs and wash

Her mouth out with soap."

It just gave me time to think even more

And realize that I in fact

Did not,

Love the boy next door.