we sat in Washington Square Park
on a slatted wood bench in the sun
your hair was tied back
and your face flushed pink with little beads of sweat
I stared at your breasts
while you peeled a grapefruit
and we spit the seeds into your paper bag

we walked back to the studio on sixth avenue
it was time for your class
and I had to catch a bus
we kissed for the first time
and when I turned to leave I could have cried
for that moment which would never be repeated
it's the damnedest thing how they never repeat

Lee Crowell

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/washington-square-park/