Before I knew about girls,
I chased Suzie down the block,
speeding after her bicycle
and her flowing hair.
Caused me to turn too sharply
into an alley, skid and crash
and still have a cinder scar,
on my elbow, decades later.
Suzie escaped that time,
but beckoned and called me
in ways I did not understand,
until one evening, perched
on my bike outside her window,
she pulled up the shade,
pulled up her t-shirt
and exposed her breastless breasts
as I gasped and stared.
I never forgot that scar.
Originally published in Brief Wilderness