All I Remember About Sunday School

 

All I Remember About Sunday School

The way Mark Novotny smelled
like wood smoke and caramel
at the collar of his shirt
cuff-linked and tucked
made me want to be near him
in my lace and white sashes
Want to crash and wrestle
and jump like a hound
What I wanted had nothing
to do with the privilege
of being included
by his maple eye
but had everything to do
with the hunger to heave with
his boyness and his bluster
from the inside out