[Vicki] Tell Me About Yourself When You Were 17 - Naomi Shihab Nye

We would lie down on the grass in the steamy dark, cypress trees rimming our kisses, their stoic, silent height. Was it bad luck to kiss on a grave? No one could have told us how much would disappear within a year. The best cat, run over by the one who loved him. Grandmother, and the lady who owned the horses. My favorite field. I would stroke your smooth Mexican skin and you would not talk to me, hardly ever, but you would meet me on the plot of the 1924 priest and close your eyes. I could feel the cloud passing over the moon without looking up and I would never find you in a telephone book for the rest of my life.

Tell Me About Yourself When You Were 17 - Naomi Shihab Nye

[Vicki]