lover is the word used
for boys at midnights, for boys
who tumble into hushed bedrooms together with
moonlight/ lamplight, for boys who
whisper empty beautiful lies into the night,
playfully stroking hope and teenage-angst *******
into long hair, for the boys who
disappear under covers and into
dewy mornings before the post-
man arrives.

it is not a word for girls, not the
sweaty ones pushed up against
cool glass car windows, leaving their imprints,
handprints from sitting in the lot too long, not for girls
with legs tangled, breaths mingling, not for the girls
who sipped strawberry soda out of twirled glass straws
on that one autumn day, not for girls
who braid only flowers into another's hair,
not for girls who promise to return, not for the two
girls, voices low, giggling through soft-mouthed kisses,
not for girls who thought being a teenager was the
easiest thing if it meant this, always.

it is especially not a word
for girls who disappeared into the night
and beyond a street corner, who leave
behind shadows of lipstick and traces of oscar wilde quotes,
along with a note that they’ve finally
left for ‘summer church camp’.