Saturday, April 5, 2014


There was no such thing as co-ed dorms;
If we wanted to walk to class together I’d
Wait outside in the snow, looking up four stories
To see if I could catch a glimpse of you
For the first time in twelve hours.

There was no room in the dorms
For budding sexuality. We were moved
To less orthodox ways of expressing  passion:  visiting
Your pastor for advice, praying together, Bible studies
On your bed during visiting hours- we never really did
Learn how to communicate.

There were visiting hours but we didn’t like anyone else
So we escaped. The campus was so small; there was so little
To explore. We hid on the playground, spied on holier couples
Who stayed outside of the twisting slide, bundled in jackets,
Hands in full view. We’d return to our separate dorms at ten,
Unwilling to admit we were unsatisfied.

Then, there was no way to stop you
From buying that ring. Perhaps if we had shared a room,
Seen the clothes on your floor, the books on mine;
Perhaps if we had shared chores, a bed, even a dog, you really
Would have heard me when I said, “I don’t want to get married.
Not to you, not now, not ever.”

Inspired by Nicole Homer

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