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I realized I’d made a big mistake. I hadn’t advanced with her as much as I thought I had.
Hell, he probably looked like Michael, himself, who had taken plenty of girls home from plenty of parties, too – horny, hopeful; no shame for him in that – but had backed off if they said no, and just said goodnight.
These days they want to text, mostly. It is more discreet. They text me from their
couches, their kids’ soccer games, their beds next to their sleeping wives. I will fuck you so hard.
I would tell Renee all of it, the details held in my stomach, fluttering up my throat as my mother and I got in the car and started the familiar drive to Skateland Roller Rink.
Sitting behind the crescent page desk facing the reading room, Clara slipped her hand between…
Poems by Laura Cesarco Eglin, translated from the Spanish by Catherine Jagoe and Jesse Lee Kercheval
“Index Finger for Touching”
“It Takes Strength”
“Staying Connecting”
“Kite-flying”
“Love Poem”
