Kiss and Tell

I have always had an inkling that I was slightly bashful
I do not mean like one of the 7 dwarfs for whom red goes hand in hand with face,
I mean regarding all things bodies and scatological I would rather bury myself in wool
Than have to face a conversation where gas is discussed, and candles and lace.


Do not mistake me for an innocent naïve young girl
For unfortunately I have been aware of the birds and the bees
for more years than my therapist would deem safe for me not to hurl.
Far from being a discreet way of life, the tune they sing surrounds me and the seas.


I appear to be the friend with whom all topics are safely broached
The Spanish friend who is English enough to carry the dead pan-non-judgmental face
In order to listen to all things hairy, lumpy, bumpy, scary and loathed.
Whilst I shrivel up and die in the name of my friends, they beam and think I am ace.



I think it is my height…
I think it is my big hands and wide shoulder span…
I think it is because my forehead must have “Speak to me” across it in a neon light.
In the end, I s’pose it’s ok…to have so many people spill their innards and be my fan.


Confronted with a family in female majority
Who see no problem in being relaxed with their nakedness,
I embrace future years of therapy which will end in realizing my stance in the minority,
Further accentuated by a Bulgarian roommate who shared the need to cause me mental mess.


My mother who plans to gallop off to a forest when done with society
Once shot at me what a prude I had become!
I am no such thing, just not Spanish in the airing of my opinions via my lung!
I merely deadpan my way through the English culture and keep the frills and lace quite mum.


As much of a prude as I may be, like I said, the questions come rolling,
Mind bogglingly so, the answers nearly innate
The forth right friends delighting in making me cringe
Whilst I think about the catholic upbringing in which I didn’t partake.


Our future, it brims with plans
To find that one perfect man, to find our Hans.
We must think about family and houses and kids
As well as not forgetting to fight for out Mr Right - to put in our bids.


Regarding procreation one must think like an animal
Mix with the best and create the best.
‘tis a simple rule to follow to survive in the jungle that is the city mall.
Not accepted are: big noses, gangly limbs and worst for the girls – a hairy chest!


These factors must all be considered when planning the future
And I must assume the fact that all things birds and bees will continue to surround me,
And the outspoken friends will still have sexy conversations whilst my ears I shut with a suture
Really, ‘tis pitiful to admit and actually, please note it verges on hyperbole – but for heavens sake the need to flee is quite innate.


I have an active ban on all things pooh-pee-fart-scab-bump-internal-external related
But like I said, I hold more information than most on causes and solutions as well as exclusions
I also believe in the closet non prude who will leap forth one day – though perhaps belated
But till then I will continue to regale in the tales of those less bashful and contribute my astounded and giggle laced wails…


And I assure all I had the furthest from a sheltered childhood, but appear to have decided to be a discreet one for the entire brood,

The question here is how many years before I lose that air
The one that allows me to surprise all and speak filth sometimes, but still maintaining my innocent flair?