Between Periods Two and Three
They wait in the dark like paranoid thieves knowing of the future's plunderThe darkness cloaks all from the eyes of those who would stop this
Their only way to feel
To escape their insular existence
To become as God's Angels and fly far
To show mommy and daddy that they CAN feel
They can know affection away from their parents arctic hearts
The clatter of the bell signals the beginning of yet another class
No different than a thousand classes of the past and future
Tomorrow they may face the sightless stare of the stone of authority
But today they don't care
But today they will really learn
True lessons between periods two and three
Curious slight young hands going were Good Christians don't
But they do
Allowing the lithe grip to have its way
Over the smooth flesh of their sinless God-fearing bodies
As it goose-bumps from the excitement
The fear of the punishment of knowing Heaven too soon
They caress in silence
Like the painted clowns outside their door
Their reality
Not a grasp is allowed from their lips
This is against the rules of their extemporaneous game
Tugging gently at the coarse fabric of their uniforms
