In the cool pond of youth we once bathed carelessly.
Under an oak tree with knotted arms and twisted leaves,
mixing hot breath with naiveté,
We used a sewing needle and a bit of ice to impale our
earlobes while dew formed on the Midwestern grass.
The threat of discovery kept us sharp.
The next summer I got my drivers license,
you found Nietzsche and the Bauhaus,
and we traded infidelities.