Poem by Lucia Stacey
—
How We Learn
My uncle lost his virginity
on a merry-go-round
at the fair near Pinner Road,
and my mother had her first
kiss at Stonehenge, before
the gates and barbed wire,
when you could press
your hand against the granite,
like stroking an elephant,
and pray it doesn’t all tumble
down. And in the middle
of July, fifteen and sunburnt,
on baby blue sheets, the air wet
with aloe and latex,
I was a woman
for two and a half minutes.
—
Lucia Stacey is a recent graduate of Davidson College. She works in biodefense and lives in New York City.
—
Featured Image photograph by E.B. Bartels, www.ebbartels.com.
