My old school friend
never gave up the habit of
biting her nails to the quick
she had German hair that stood in a halo
a little too thick
and we danced in 1950s skirts
to Shaking Stevens
her mom knocking on the door
turn it down I’m studying for my PhD
since her father left she has climbed
higher toward sea level
whilst we only knew parody
turning the dial on the radiator to
heat up the hormone room
life then was a warm window
two girls crossing the floor in bare feet
she’s staring at me from across the way
still nervous and antsy
as if exams were looming
and the cold nose of winter refused
to flatten our hat sprung hair
from its floss