BY ANN DARR
We come now to the space which is boy-shaped.
It has always been there, filled or unfilled.
Come ride with me on my motor-cycle, we'll do
the whole mile-square by moonlight and we rode,
I clinging to that boy shape with all the girl
shape I was, and the moon made shadows of us
on the corn rows, and we scared ourselves on
the corners, and laughed as loud as we dared
and swung on home before the night could get us.
In the wane of that same moon, he raced the mile alone
and struck an old car parked without its lights
and the night got to him, and the moon had to shine
a great many nights before I was sure it wouldn't
get me too We had been little kids together,
sitting flat out in my sand box, making pies.
We practised kissing in the alley behind his house
and mine. I can still hear the little lights
in his voice that made my nipples stand out straight.
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