Morning, my darlings. …

Morning, my darlings. Sorry it's been a few days, but things have been tremendously social and busy here. Kevin came up Friday from his parents' and is staying with, small birthday party Friday night which went very very late, wanderings up to Berkeley with Kevin Saturday afternoon (where I had perhaps the best sandwich of my life -- fresh bread, grilled mushrooms and roasted red peppers, delicate goat cheese and thin apple slices -- amazingly good) and bookstore-hopping, pirate ball Saturday night, people over for brunch yesterday (well, 'people' being David and Heather and Kevin and Ian and El, which is practically family, but still) and a quite fun play last night (_Picasso at Lapin Agile_) which I heartily recommend to anyone who appreciates geeks. It would go over well at U Chicago. :-)

So first chance to catch my breath in a bit (helps that Kev is still asleep) and say hello again to y'all. I should actually get back to work, but I wanted to share some of the poems you've been sending in. And thanks for the lovely birthday wishes -- I really had a very nice extended birthday, started Friday or so. :-)

This one's from another Mary Ann, though she spells her name wrong. :-) She tells me that it's not about the actual first time, but the first man, which I think is close enough...

Six years today
and that is long enough to forget
the exact texture of your skin
and how salty it was.
I can only almost picture
the curve of your lip
and how it fit.
I don't really remember, now,
how your voice would thicken
and your eyes grow dark
or how long and fine your fingers are
or how gracefully you brush
stray hair from your face.
It is six years
that I have called you friend
and the words we say
are dust on the surface
of all the things I cannot recall.

- Mary Ann Locke

This one is from 'R', who asked to remain nameless. I certainly think it's deserving of an attribution, but given the subject matter, I can understand the urge to remain anonymous...

        First Times

"Send me a poem about your first time" she writes
  and I wonder what to say...

Do I tell her of 18
  when it was sexuality and love
    and everything seemed to be beginning
  both of us were scared
    yet anxious to discover life's possibilities
  as we explored each other.

Do I tell her of 16
  when it was curiosity and lust
    and everything was fresh and exciting
  both of us were scared
    yet anxious to explore life's sensations
  as curious about ourselves as each other.

Do I tell her of 10
  when it was perversion and force
    and everything was unknown and frightening
  all I remember was being so scared
    and anxious for it to be over
  terrified of the person who could do that to me.

What counts and doesn't count, when it comes to first times?

     -19 July 1998

Now, 'W' also requested anonymity, with no good reason, as far as I can tell...

In a different world,
we had the courage to touch.
That is strange comfort.


A dance of strangers
whirling around the shaman:
"Please, another tale!"

I'm enjoying these very much, and I think will eventually collect them all in the poetry section. Any more?

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