the not-so-good catholic boy

i fell in love with him as we rehearsed for a play my sophomore year

he was so significant

i still remember his confirmation name

anthony

he wasn’t my first kiss

but he was my first love

the not-so-good catholic boy

with whom i first went all the way

he gave me my only claddagh ring

on a hillside in ault park

still kept in a mother of pearl box on the dresser

i have refused all the other hand held hearts

bearing crowns

that came after

it’s easier not to care for whom you wed

he was 18

i was 15

that’s three decades to a teen

we were beautiful together

his blaze of red hair and irish smile

looked lovely beside

my dark island queen

we worshipped each other

we made stupid choices

we made love in places that defied

our anatomy and physics classes

within a year our words had destroyed each other

we exist an unused marriage bed

our unborn children grateful

they never endured our divorce

as am i

but i don’t regret a moment of him

yes, i still remember his confirmation name…