we put sweetness in a jar that spring
under the mulberry tree in the corner of
the schoolyard branches desperately reaching over
the metal fence
they had to take that tree out a couple years after
we left the roots tried to burrow under the concrete but
some places aren’t meant for growth
we’d sit there at recess rushing to
our spot from the cafeteria table where we’d braid grass into
bracelets and toss mulberries back and forth
we weren’t cool but we didn’t care we had
each other to sneak under fences and explore the scraggly woods
behind the school before the bell
rang then we’d straighten our skirts and sigh walking
back to the colorless classroom
i don’t remember whose idea the honeysuckle jar was just that
we wanted to drink pure joy before we
parted off to different floors, schools states, and continents
we’d pull out the mason jar each recess climbing
through weeds and hanging upsidedown on monkey bars dirtying
our shirts in our quest for white and gold
we ate too many mulberries one time and got sick but
laughed about it sometimes the boys took our spot and we fought
with them yelling from below the tree I was
fiercer than anything those days
we loved each other well
you see I didn’t meet love like that again for
a while most of us are queer now which is to
say weird kids a decade later
seeking sweetness despite the concrete
we couldn’t fill the jar each honeysuckle flower yielding
a single drop we only got an inch of nectar at
least we could see it
pinkorange liquid sweetness
i think we split it each getting a quarter
of a sip sitting under the tree one last
time closing our eyes to let the moment linger
a little longer in our mouths
