Blue-jeaned boys from the wrong side,
parking-lot stubs and lipsticked bathrooms,
tight laces that gripped
our feet in dirty-white leather
as we rolled the oak circumference
to a “Baby Elephant” beat.
The fast girls swerved corners we took slow
their hips tilting into each push
arms easy at their sides, hair waving.
Our sweaty palms clasped each
and the railing, just in case,
organ music heaving
while the Hershey bar I saved for later
oozed against my naked chest.
But there was no stopping
until we sat out the “Hokey Pokey”
regretting that we felt too old,
small rolls of our skates keeping time,
one eye on those blue jeans.
And when I felt sure no one was looking
I pulled the candy from my shirt,
melted chocolate stuck to my skin.
Together we unwrapped it
and licked the foil paper clean.