Midsummer
I
The teenaged girl is searching for a place
that goes through, the hole
to put the tampon inside. When she finds it
she asks her mother, Is this where the penis would go?
Yes, her mother explains.
Then I will never have sex.
II
Sweltering New York City. She wears a red dress with a silver necklace,
bangle, and earrings. A college friend she’s known for years says, I don’t
think I’ve ever seen your body. He’s right. Though she thinks of her body
constantly, she hadn’t realized how masterfully she’d hidden it. She has no
idea what has freed her.
III
In midsummer, strawberries in the uphill
garden redden deeply. About two
handfuls haven’t been eaten through
by slugs and ants.
She deliberates which one to pick.
IV
Mirrors lined the front wall of the ballet studio. There, students were trained to inspect themselves, correct mistakes, and follow the more advanced dancers by watching them in the mirror. A few weeks before a performance, the ballet instructor would reorient the dancers one hundred and eighty degrees. The back of the room would become the front. There are, the instructor reminded the dancers, no mirrors on stage. From that point on, they’d have to depend on rehearsal, muscle memory, musicality, will. They smiled at their imaginary audience and ran lightly on their tip toes as if they weighed nothing at all.