sugar

we laid in a twilight giant's hand.
movie in the glare. girl legs june hairy 
& crossed. i often found as a girl 
that my connections were brief
& intense. i loved my friends best
when we weren't in a group. when 
i could catch glimpses of their butter. 
her soft white carpet beneath bare feet.
i can't remember if i stayed the night.
the moon, like a birthday balloon 
looming in the sky's eye. we didn't
talk about boys or girls. i think we talked
about birds & where we wanted 
to go when we left this place. 
we couldn't find any snacks in her house.
i was tired. heavy. she lived near the edge
of town that overlooked the highway.
all the shops are empty now. all the 
cars have never landed where they thought
they were going. she took out a box 
of sugar packets. opened one on her tongue.
i swear my freckles buzzed like children. 
all the lamplight & the sweet mirror smell
of her blankets. she handed a packet to me.
we didn't have sugar like this in my house.
white. blooming. i tore the corner.
felt my mouth water. emptied the sugar
onto my tongue just like she had. 
instantly, everything was ringing. a bite
of sweet sand. the sharks beneath the clouds.
some movie, unraveling on the tv. 
knees brushing. not a love poem but also
a love poem. for every packet i ate she ate two.
more skilled in sugar. i felt my girlhood 
turning to sugar. dissolving in the spit 
& the streetlight. i think i walked him
despite the curfew. i think my teeth rung
like bells. i don't know if we ever did that again.