You think it was one thing, then
another how
like a poem or
dandelion pollen, sweet glow
on his cheek. Even now
you wouldn’t give up
its multiple affections though
you were small & he slicked
back dark D.A.
pegged dungarees
cigarettes how he spoiled you
forever for blond men &
boys on the school bus ha ha ha’d when
you placed it where he pointed,
little puppet. Nobody saw
him hold you on his lap, plaid
skirt & pink cheeks winter sun
almost brilliant in the sub-
primary room windows. How like
makeshift memory,
like shame or a blessing.