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.