Of Two Beginnings

She is twelve I’m only ten
Buried in this soft mountain of pillows
Parents away
She asks me have I been touched
Have I done the thing with anyone yet
Silence — a shy no
And there is nothing
That we’d rather share
Than that bodily warmth if we’d dare
But she’s already twelve and I am
Just a child
Warm and shy
She’s so old — already twelve and I am only ten
Than was me, young and free, there and then
Now in this hotel room I lie wondering who I am
Never quite as sure after a life of questioning
Finding out at last that freedom is a state of mind
But still not knowing how to get along with this mankind
Finding out at last that freedom is a state of mind