I used to think coconut trees had holes in them
because that's just the way they are
but it turns out they're made by men with
knives in their shoes
when they were done
trimming our bushes
they'd give us the coconuts
and we knew how to shake them
hold then up like seashells
listening for the milk
and we'd drop them on the pavement
giant green geodes smacking
until they split
and leaked all over our toes
I never liked the milk
I just liked to watch them break
I used to think short shorts
came with the climate
and six-year-old shoulders couldn't be
sexy
turns out spaghetti straps are
deadly
we ate dark red cherries
on the dock
squished them in our little fingers
painted them on our prepubescent bodies
asked for the boats to see us
dead
turns out when you're older
you can't just slip into the salt water
to wash it off
and surf spots always have apostrophe S's
because men are territorial
I've never really been scared but
I still borrow my friends taser
when I walk home