You taste like the first summer I ever drank ice coffee
and drove with my brand-new license, windows open, always.
I don’t have to wonder what you’re thinking,
I don’t have to wonder at all.
Adults speed over the little things
You slip your hand to the skin of my back.
I press my fingers against the taut muscle of your chest
I am thick in my familiar haze of codes and hints,
calculations and boasting,
when suddenly I see you clear and blue
like a child coming out of the pond:
Your smile is uncensored and unembellished,
plain and even pure:
You have made me sixteen again.
There’s no time for more,
not today and not tomorrow,
so I’ll just remember you like watermelon,
like sugar and water,
innocent and unadorned.
(2) Readers Comments
March 21, 2017
March 02, 2017
February 21, 2017
Thank you, Scott.
I have been living in Santiago for about one year and I can confirm th
This was an enjoyable read. I could easily picture the venue and und
Thank you so much, Melanie. I appreciate your kind words about my stor
What a touching story! Being an English teacher as well as a music ent