bathroom mirror

seven years old

and kissing my best friend 

in her bathtub

mother in the guest bedroom

half-asleep

dressing up

dressing out

of sparkling purple

and gold

necklaces out-running

our bodies

photography 

behind a locked door

and after years of 

repressing

I know

often

where my words are

going

back around the streets

in squares

because no one really

goes

in circles

my friend in her

soft black skin

and bare lips

my lips

red and sparkling 

with younger

wonder

too old for 

"the right time"

years later

talking decently deep

on the telephone 

with Summer

finding those circles 

more capable than 

pornography

but good-reads never really

write

in circles-

do they?