I Try Not to Think About

the private jokes we shared
our favorite pink pajamas on Christmas morning
sleeping in the old white Chevy
touching tongues because it felt funny
giggling till we couldn’t catch our breath
fighting over the blankets at grandma’s
your morning grouchiness
getting caught with boys in the house
dancing to Three Dog Night
sneaking down the television antennae
and into the freedom of a summer night
late bonfire bashes at “the tree”
sneaking in drunk after curfew
sharing the stick shift, dark green Vega
locking the keys in the car at the
Steve Miller Band concert
crying together after your abortion
holding your head in my lap
while you sobbed over something
I couldn’t change
for the first time
of many more to come.