Okay – I wrote both this and that about a teenage crush –
And, lo, this old friend tells me at her daughter’s summer rush
She’s with Therese’s daughter, who is also starting school.
She also sent this picture, and I know that none of you’ll
Believe me when I tell you, but, seeing this picture – dude –
She looks so like her mother
There’re some guys
Who are are just
Screwed
Erotic crushes need not be obscene;
But they seem overwhelming at fifteen,
When lust and shame lay tangled up in wire
And cool bedsheets become a raging fire
I lived in fear she’d see it in my eyes –
I lived in hope she’d find it in her heart –
But all my clumsy overtures unwise
Could never make her see or hear my part.
Therese, you’ll never read this, so I say
I’m sorry that I looked at you that way.
One thought of you back then – I was a goner:
At least I never acted
With dishonor
I’d try to go to sleep, and lo,
Therese’s face was looming;
Twas not her fault I dreamed of her,
My crush was so consuming
It would have shocked her, had she known.
She doesn’t, to this day —
For I was fifteen, and a boy
And we
Were all
That way
