XIX
|
THE SENSE IN SHARING
Tidal turned twenty that summer. I took the train for an hour then took off my clothes. I still haven’t seen an Indian coast, rocky beaches and floods of my parents’ college days. I’ve seen a photo of my mother’s face in a classmate’s hair. they clutch each other chunnis and grins shocked in the salt wind. I guess I’ll tell my niece about my weekend in Quincy but what will I say? I took the train for an hour, just one line then I drank a lot and took off my clothes. for my party I got crepe paper and a free bin of beer from a sublet stranger and it was strange to be on the kitchen floor too drunk to take off my clothes. yeah I’m a shadow! boxer baby Iwannabeready for what you do I wore peach one night to breathe and my hot friends came over with dessert. I cooked in the heat, daal in the house where I rented one of seven bedrooms with a wooden spoon to taste. that is, my hot and generous friends. after two months they left school for California. all we knew was California. we never even got pictures. that summer they were in love, or at least making cakes together, turning to sponge at twenty. one was a dancer and my best friend’s ex. the other liked me and was sincere. coconut flakes in sugar stuck to my teeth afterwards I wanted ice more than water |