The Seesaw Stage (Poetry)

Dismissed by some as nothing more
than a natural part
of growing up
a blip in development
a not-unusual phase
those intense same-sex crushes
a bench mark of puberty
short-lived and shrugged off
casual as last season’s fashion

Such episodes were
desperately dramatic
even vaguely operatic
in their attention-seeking way
the extreme seesaw of emotion
a strange sickness or addiction
the sufferer oblivious
to all else in their world

The exclusively female environs
of a 600-girl grammar school
played havoc with our fired-up hormones
inborn charisma and power
were mostly in their early infancy
dominance a shifting weather pattern
fickle popularity the sweet ‘n’ sour
flavour of the moment

Chemical imbalance coincided
with a damburst of dreams
but nothing much happened to talk about
a cuddle and a giggle
a snuggle and perhaps
a half-embarrassed kiss
no doubt there were others
who went further
and dared to test the water
of confused desire
and so bonded
set their appetites for life

I never went that far
but merely lingered on the border
of a timid curiosity
and maybe only once or twice
half-seriously considered
crossing over just to see
how green that foreign grass might be

The temptation being Pauline
her bold boyish ways
perplexed me
with hints of lawless musk
husky voice and toying
with a show of mock affection
those awkward hugs ambiguous

For years I’ve wondered
on and off
still arguing with memory
how much was true
exactly
who was leading who
and which one of us
lives on in self-denial