I ride my bike past your office
you say the secretary thinks
you say it makes you smile.
I stop and wave and she opens
the door and winks and says with
hard Rs, “Ya gonna give it to me
when ya go straight, right?’
I wink back and smile as I ride off,
That night we made love and slept
in each other’s arms: safe in the
childhood of our 20’s.
Image and poem (c) Rob Goldstein 1985-2018