I use the Napkin to cover my virginity.
Mom always says to put a napkin on my lap
And so I do
Aunt Bell never uses a napkin
She lives dangerously
Then I look down
I see white purity running over me
I feel safe
It’s quilted
I run my finger tips over its texture
My eyes close
But all I see is that clever napkin
That protective layer
My sister doesn’t use a napkin
She’s loose
Just like Aunt Bell she lives on the edge
She presses the wine to her lips
No fear of spills
No fear of droplets
My father, king of the castle, stares her down
Ashamed she’s chosen wine
My napkin saves her and I both
When father sees my napkin he’s elated
Purity has nothing on wine
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