My Soliloquy Disgruntled With Love

discombobulated mother

My mother never warned me about girls,
She never warned me of their lilac lips during winters cold,
Their insatiable desires to run away and hide behind murals of nature less beautiful than the nature they are themselves,
Never of their gentle prying fingertips against tight fitted jeans or cocooning covers to inch closer during movies,
She never warned me of how their eyes could be as cold and rock hard as the earth if not more,
Yet as warm as the cascade of water during my morning shower,
Never about their slick whispers from the mountains of my ears to the back of my throat,
Of the way she would taste like honey but burn like whiskey,
She never warned me of how their laugh would strike a fire in the pit of my stomach,
And I would look through dazed eyes as she danced around the fire to no music,
I was never warned of how addicting her arms would become when I broke out in cold sweats heaving from a nightmare,
Never about how my hands would file against every inch of her skin in soft prompts to be close to her almost absentmindedly,
My mother never warned me that girls are a religion,
I would eat, sleep, breathe, and gulp them in,
Never of how they are a drug,
How do you warn somebody of that though,
How is a mother supposed to warn her child that a girl is going to put goosebumps along the inside of their pounding heart,
A girl is going to make them understand the meaning of life and how to fall in love whether it ends badly or not,
How a girl is going to become the universe.