When would ‘I’ see blood, she asked?
Her grandma replied discerningly-
Wait patiently my child,
Why do you want to go through it already?
All of 14, she hadn’t a clue about what it meant;
Yet an experience, she dearly yearned for!
She now recalls that day and date, privately-
Many monthlies did pass by thus,
Oh yes, with all the accompanying physical and mental stress.
But, something she loved about its arrival-
She nursed a fetish that none would even think of-
Hers, was of a quaint kind;
A wonderful state of seclusion
With the sensation of hot blood
Oozing out of every vein
Every drop, leading to a creative gloom that loomed large:
A strange joy in pensive quietude ensues...
Yeah, how could she forget to nurse that sweet little pimple that emerged each time?!