My inner child grew up and moved out when I was 12
All I have left is the inner grownup, who pays the bills
Drinks hot chocolate and marks things on the calendar for me.
She likes sex. So I don’t always feel comfortable when
The inner child comes back to visit. Twisting her ponytail,
Chewing gum, dragging her insecurities behind her.
With everyone on their best behavior: guest room cleaned
Sheets ironed, all the playful activities kids like, are artfully
Arranged for no more than a weekend. It’s always nice
To see her, but such a relief when we hug good-bye
And can back to the x-rated nasty, the business of making money,
Walking with a purpose, contemplating the rain, sipping wine.
All the things my grown self so much prefers.