Standing in line at the grocery store, I page through Cosmo and remember


when did you fall
when did you fall
when did you fall, in love with him?

    her eyes were closed.

across a crowded room?

she bit her lip.
she was drunk,

we were all drunk, at least a little

and nervous.

did his eyes catch yours?

and her fingers clenched;
she whispered a moan, high-pitched,
his hand between her thighs,
my fingers on her breast,
our motions unsynchronized,
but still. she whispers

did you look at him, and know?

and arches, and I am guessing
but moving, greatly daring,
bending down to kiss her once,
twice. her eyes still closed. her lips
wet, reaching. he does something
I miss, and she — convulses.
and stills. her eyes closed

did he smile?

and the room is suddenly crowded.
we watch her; we wait.

she opens her eyes, and smiles. we
relax. look up at each other,
eyes slipping past, barely touching,
and I am shaking, because I know