Indoctrination, 1972
You were their leader, that gang of boys, that tangle of freckles
and wide-striped shirts. You chose a girl and they chased her down,
pinning her arms and legs while you kissed her, quick, on the lips.
The day they caught me, I felt a word I couldn’t name explode
in my chest. I kicked and scratched at all those hands, those fingers
now losing their grip. You kept coming, leaning in while I lurched
away, until finally letting out a disgusted sigh: This one’s too much
trouble. Let her go. It was second grade, St. Anthony’s school, and
the church loomed, straight and serious, over the playground. At its
entrance, two tall fir trees shivered in the breeze, whispering, laughing.
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So nice to read Paula Lambert’s work here!