Remember the time we were naughty together?
Sneaking up that spiral staircase hidden
At the rear of a janitor’s mop closet –
The door left alluringly unwatched, unlocked and open –
Within a side tower of a campus Gothic Hall.
Up we went, into a black so pitch and absolute
It disconcerted; how could we have been
So recklessly stupid? I remember holding hands
As we both emerged unscathed on a high, flat roof
Between some parapets. It was an unvisited place,
And we could look out over the campus, and even view
Some unsuspecting mutual friends wending their ways below.
These were our delightful secrets, the defiance,
The climb, the viewpoint, the hint of possibilities.
Since then, the campus routine, one supposes,
Has gone on just as it ought, without
The super vision and the secrets, without
The questions, all on the up and up,
Without the you, without the me.
