She liked what we did in class and so she walked me to the door
with her arm looped around my waist.
Like the seedling tree, mixing her green with mine,
something alive and growing.
The second, like the wall, hard and guarded,
at the end of a church meeting.
Dick put out his hands, not in a welcoming gesture,
but as guardrails, so that he controlled how close
my body -- or any body -- would get to his.
The third, a not hug, between me and a her
who are not ready to say good-bye that way.
Like the sunlight, the crease of the blue sky within the trees,
the air that cannot be photographed.
There, but not there, yet.
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