New Hips

By Phoebe DeVincenzi
Volume 2//Poem

Mom said she liked to call having sex

“making love”

I hushed her and refused to talk anatomy

puzzled over whispers on the floor

Rocky Horror—our Bible and nightlight

back when sleepovers didn’t make me

hunger for sleep


back when young girls turned nocturnal

and piled on top of one another

to test the weight of other bodies

the architecture of limbs

and dared kisses to watch

the strange

smacking of lips


your mother’s lingerie didn’t fit well

but we wore it anyway

and paraded our bellies to the night

moon-sick and circling

our new hips

stirring adolescent lust

into tender air alchemy

pulsing and secret

with the hum of young girl magic

for 14 years after forgetting how to sleep