and the ground was alive with insects
and her knees were bent and red
and she heard him whispering
and she knew what was required
and his hands were always a bit feminine
and there were things she never guessed at
and she told herself that it was for her own good
keeping, tightly, things she couldn't question

and her heart was pressed of paper
and soaking through with him
and her vision continued trembling
and the leaves gravel ground crawled up and up and down
and she couldn't get the feel of it off her
and she twitched and scratched her face
and in the sun she remembered the dim, opening her like a flower
releasing her pollen, the anxiety in her always