I’VE BEEN MAKING MIX TAPES FOR THEORETICAL LOVES, PRACTICING MY FUTURE TRYSTS WITH OVERLY PERFECT MEN.  I AM A WITTY WHIPPERSNAPPER, A FLIRTY FIRECRACKER.  I REHEARSE MY SMILES LIKE THEY ARE SOMETHING.  MY LIPS, LAME ACROBATS, AWKWARDLY INCH APART IN FORCED CONTORTIONS.  I ENTERTAIN WHAT TO SAY, TRITE COININGS LIKE “I NEVER SLEEP WITH SOMEONE ON THE FIRST DATE”-WHICH IS ALMOST THE OPPOSITE OF TRUE BUT IT MAKES THE WHOLE THING MORE EXCITING.  THE LOVER CAN FEEL LIKE HE HAS CONQUERED SOME INVINCIBLE MOUNTAIN WHEN MY CHASTITY IS A WEAK WALLED MOLEHILL, AN ALMOST UNNOTICEABLE THING.