Catherine Gewertz
WE’D BEEN DANCING
and I followed
the God of Lost Virginity home.
It was time,
I figured,
& he would do.
Queer, curious girl,
I’d known his name
for an hour.
I got what I came for
without
coming at all.
No twinkling stars,
just an item on a list,
crossed off.
Driving home, 3 am,
I wound down Pacific Coast Highway,
windows and moonroof open,
letting the sharp salted wind lick
my arms and whip
my wild hair.
I don’t remember
what he said that night
or whether he
turned the stereo on.
But I can still feel
how cool & grainy
the sand was when I stopped at the beach
to dig my bare feet in,
and how the night sky
glittered the ocean
with armfuls of thrown stars.
(after William Stafford)