Sugar for St. Helens

You want to stand right on the rim
and throw your gifts down. Well,
we can't have that. We have our fat
pink eye on you regarding the damage
an older girl can do to a younger girl
at camp.

There are places you are not allowed
to touch - Bosco-thick nerve endings
stretched beyond their normal delivery
routes. Oh good you said when you heard
of the tumor in her side jogging to her brain.
It's okay, Jesus told me it's okay.

You have knife pleats in your skirt, a selfish
canary to rubrubrub its beak on cuttlebone,
skin so tender only silks will do. You dress
in white, butter oozing from your thighs.
You believe there is enough sugar inside
to turn all the milk to honey.