My final year, I made it to the prom.
A gorgeous date, and us dressed to the nines;
Our preparation: storms before the calm
That came when we escaped the tight confines
Of family photos, boutonnière, corsage;
Of moms and dads and family persiflage.
And as out of the car I took her hand
We entered into that strange unknown land
Of lights and music, perfume and desire,
Of bodies, hearts and hopes and passage rites;
We two together, starting our small fire
Two nascent stars that never made the heights
And even though for me, she was not right
I loved her
And I’m grateful
For that night