She walks across the lawn,
a smooth glimpse casually given
teenage cotton and tan lines
exchanged for a live beat.
Tonight after she swallows
her last bite of pizza
she’ll tell roommates it was a leer.
Gross and giggles and just maybe
give I was once nineteen,
rock-hard and broke,
but no way grok
how pale florescent days
leave a permanent squint,
years just more pounds to shed,
that desire grows
in creek-side brambles
free to pick
if you don’t mind thorns,
purple lips,
sticky-sweet down your chin.