Poem for my First Girlfriend
Jessie fell through me
like wind slipping through a screen,
like wind slipping through a screen,
the way hands push through water.
For sixteen years before we met,
I never knew the feel of my own body,
how I might look at myself
if I had entertained the possibility
of not lying beneath
but lying with, one sound—
no ocean for the shell to hold.
-Stacey Waite
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