Prevention

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