Staircase at Fifteen

staircase

Staircase at Fifteen

Ascending, her centrifugal
influence captures me

and I follow,
breathless,
witless, wordless,

despite all longing
and shared

discretions, in spite
of the thundering
pulse
and the incessant
demand to act
or run.

She pauses, looks
down, sees
nothing.

Suddenly freed,
spinning off
and slowing down,
shrinking,

far below, on equal
footing but so
apart,

never to meet
in truth, unable
to define direction or

motive, I remain
fixed as she moves
higher, far away, close

but up,
always up.

planetarium

55 thoughts on “Staircase at Fifteen

  1. Pingback: Staircase at Fifteen — O at the Edges – The Education Slave

  2. Pingback: Missteps | rivrvlogr

  3. To my embarrassment, i don’t think this happened to me. High School was no time of romance for me, the bad skin, brace & general awkwardness from being the only kid in school to listen to Robert Johnson & secretly read, yes, just read, anything, saw to it that any female encounter was relegated to harsh words against me of weirdo & worse. Not to worry though, all that weirdness was to my benefit in university, the skin cleared up, the puppy fat slipped off, the universe has a way of creating balance.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. I’m still flummoxed by many of my encounters with other humans (who do always seem to know where they are going, whereas I am still totally lost). But there’s a special aura to it in adolescence that you have captured well. A breathlessness. (K)

    Liked by 1 person

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