#05 May 2000, 2000

eye on the ball by Sienna Baskin

from the bank where we sit, rain on our knees, its a chalked smudge, but I see it clear. Like a spotlight focused on me. Like an eye, coy. It winks out behind the partner dance of teams, bodies threading, near collision disappears into the tangle of whipping hair and flashing thighs that jostles and