A wink,
In a church, from a man serving me the blood of Christ,
My stomach turns, remembering the discomfort.
A wink,
On the street, from a man of a different generation,
It was the first time I felt like a woman.
A wink,
On a picnic blanket, from a man I would soon fall deeply for,
I wince; I’m still piecing the shards of my heart into a recognizable mass.
A wink,
In a hospital room, from a man who held me as a babe,
This memory is more precious than any jewel the earth could offer.
A wink,
At any time in any place can mean nothing and everything
Depending on how it’s remembered.