What You Meant Was

It's a surprise to sit outside this time of November

so comfortably on the swing with a crash of sun against

your neck wanting to wear that white dress only meant

for indeed summer the one you have taken in a man with

what you thought opaque white not quite so or so

he told you after he'd swept a finger across your cheek

          when you said Saul I don't know if we deserve this

and he said close your eyes and think about it

What he meant was don't think What he meant was let me kiss you

             Sitting outside with a spot of flowers huddled against the fence

you are glad it still feels like summer your mother has used the word

unseasonable to describe it though you would have said anomalous

     anything else sounds giddy and these are solemn days

with the coming of winter still coming only pitched a length from our minds

            You let him kiss you of course and you're thinking of course

because this is the man who put a spin on you who took

    and took from you all of it starting with that white dress

that day in the park after church he must have watched the shadows

the light across your body to tell you later he knew

exactly what kind of panties you wore tugging the slight

            white strap at your hip all you could think to say was

wait to which he said sorry sorry sorry

what you meant was no

what he meant was let me try again in five four three

           A tree frog starts a slow crawl across the seat of the swing you have

never seen a frog crawl as if a spider one limb at a time each wet nub reaching

            carefully you reach to touch the frog so small

so composed and unaware you mean not to hurt it just

reassure yourself of living you too have been that still

a thin line of sweat on the crest of your lip