My First Summer

9–2–15

We sat in the clasp of summer, two boys fresh from the cool, clear, chlorinated water,
Eyes wide, yearning for that which is unspoken, burning from our underwater exploration of one and other,
Hair clinging to our faces as we break the surface gasping for air, laughing at our childish uncertainty.

Your hair, golden strands of sunbeams burning ever deeper into a foreign part of my being, one not yet discovered but sensed,
My brown skin, a contrast to your Anglo blood, like the beautiful darkness in your soul that unites us both.
And the distance of our bodies, inching ever nearer, close enough so that our toes brush as we try to stay above the water.

Our smiles falter as our laughter dies, as we reach the point of surprise transcendence, unexpected understanding.
I reach out to keep from slipping back beneath the now calm pool, you keep me afloat with a single arm,
Now our faces close in, eyes unblinking, so close that your heart beats inside my chest and my lips are your lips.

Then the moment has passed and I swim to the edge and lift myself onto the warm concrete, hiding my excitement,
You follow but remain half submerged, resting your head as I lay on the ground to dry,
There our eyes meet again, the wind wrapping its warm arms around our bodies, sending shivers to places we keep secret.

The afternoon is drawing to a close like the pages of some forbidden book, though our story is only just begun,
We lay in your bed, each breath an accusation and stab of guilt, what does this mean for two best friends?
You reach for me and I you, the sacrifice of childhood in the final days of the season, we have blossomed into something more.