this poem never made it to the blog…

A beginning and end poem
What did I know, 
in my freshman year,
about subliminal messages 
from members of the opposite sex?
She was older and more worldly, 
having just returned from a junior 
year abroad. 

I was in awe.
I read her my freshman year poetry. 
It was all I had.

She urged me to submit it 
to the college newspaper
for the annual poetry issue,
but she didn’t tell me 
she was the poetry page editor.
I should have known that, 
but what did I know? 
Her encouragement was enough. 

Three poems were accepted.
I was ecstatic!
What was I to do next?
I didn’t have a clue.

She invited me to her apartment
for homemade soup – I accepted.  

It’s not what you think.
We had long conversations
over almost daily visits
about exotic places she travelled to,
places I hoped one day to see for myself.

She was very kind to me 
and I was appreciative of her kindness.
We dated, if you can call it that, 
for the rest of the spring semester.   

Then we went our separate ways – 
she graduated and moved to Chapel Hill
for grad school. And me, unmoored,
I drifted out to sea.

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