Lyn Nakashima

Girls and Boys… and God


“For God made Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve.”

Holding hands after Sunday School cause that’s what best friends do
we were young
and innocence clouded what we didn’t know.
And now we do know,
what stares accompany this kind of news:
Stephanie has a girlfriend, and now Tyler has a boyfriend

Remember when we saw the people at the fair?
Kissing and laughing
Their hair, choppy like Michael’s, with pink nail polish and red lipstick
I asked your mom who was the girl and who was the boy
she glanced up

then told us it was time to go

Fifteen now, and you are already so brave,
to say what I can’t even form in my head.
And it is weird
Dad cannot hear me when I say your name
and Mom asks if I will sing with the choir this week
as if a reference to Sunday will “cleanse” the uncomfortable.


Bedtime

The front door is locked… and the lights are off. Step by step, I walk back to bed scanning the unlit halls for dancing shadows. There’s an imbalance. Back to the front door, just to double check. The front door is locked… and the windows are shut. I walk back, my feet so cautious they float against the floorboards, scanning the floor under bright lights. One last time, I turn and run to the door. The front door is locked… and silence blankets the front porch. I leave the lights on again, while I walk back icy waves course through my veins, my skin screams and I am at the front door… again. The front door is locked. But I cannot leave, something calls me to check. And check again while I drown in time.


Lyn Nakashima is a Freshman at Boston University. Born and raised in Honolulu, Hawaii, she will be declaring a Psychology major and hopes to work in child development research. This is her first publication.