Freshman year she called, crying

We’ll never know what it was or 

how it came to be. She never showed 

the signs on her stomach and the 

signs she wore long on her face 

were those of the boy hands always 

drawing on her. Move miles away, 

we told her, across the rivers and 

mountains, we told her, until one day

she did. And maybe this was his 

pledge to keep following her. And 

maybe, she really never knew. She 

never showed the signs on her

stomach but then it threatened 

eruption with aching pains at a frat 

party, and bass drums were shaking 

shrinking doors, and she was limping, 

in the stall she was crouching, fetal

for her life she was willing ringing 

ears to go still. Still after it dropped, 

sunk down in the porcelain bowl.

Her mind that red face frozen before

it could drown. She prayed and she 

prayed but I was no God. Gentle 

songs I sung to coax her asleep.