smooth mud, packed into cakes
\ncreaking chains on swings
\nheld with wet palms
\nhair dripping in strands
\nfrom a run under the sprinkler
\nthe secret things we did
\nhidden upstairs in your garage
\nall the games we played
\nrunning bases monkey in the middle
\nChinese school hands clenched
\ntight around pebbles and then
\nthere are the games with
\nno names with feathers
\npursed lips air blown on bare skin
\nyou the only one who I wrestled
\nwho I swore allegiance best best friend
\nthe one who climbed beside me
\nno matter where I went who let me
\nput up her hair pose her beside the willow
\nlet me touch her catholic thighs who
\nslipped her fingers over me blew hot
\ndreams into all my lips and seams even
\nwhen your mother opened the door
\nand saw us even then Madeline
\nyou were my best friend<\/p>\n
Showcase Press smooth mud, packed into cakes creaking chains on swings held with wet palms hair dripping in strands from a run under the sprinkler the secret things we did hidden upstairs in your garage all the games we played running bases monkey in the middle Chinese school hands clenched tight around pebbles and then there are … <\/p>\n
\nIssue one\u00a0 2006<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"