Time has streamed on enough through me that, some moments, I can no longer recall how they began...or even ended; I try to remember as much as I can, but at this dimming distance from youth I just treasure know they happened.
One moment here: sitting at the north shore of the island where we lived; sitting in the warmth of summer. A moment there, crosslegged on the grass together by the cyclone fence smoking shared clove cigarrettes.
And tonight, some thirty-two years past, we sit in your basement with the TV on as an excuse to be there alone. Maybe there was music, was it beautiful? Did my emotions shape it beautiful, even if it was just a show? There was a chair. We were in a chair...a round, warm, beanbag chair on the floor in a quiet corner of a so happily alone and empty room...with an excuse granting television, and quiet, and you, and I, together. And this much I'll say: we were kissing, so slowly, so wrapt, we were kissing; and do you remember how it felt and how we felt and all that happened in that brief elysian? I remember just that part, just that briefness. And I know that you do too. So, what matter to put it down here for outsiders to read? The moment that happened then. Just imagine if I wrote it, what stirrings the next passage would bring...
One moment here: sitting at the north shore of the island where we lived; sitting in the warmth of summer. A moment there, crosslegged on the grass together by the cyclone fence smoking shared clove cigarrettes.
And tonight, some thirty-two years past, we sit in your basement with the TV on as an excuse to be there alone. Maybe there was music, was it beautiful? Did my emotions shape it beautiful, even if it was just a show? There was a chair. We were in a chair...a round, warm, beanbag chair on the floor in a quiet corner of a so happily alone and empty room...with an excuse granting television, and quiet, and you, and I, together. And this much I'll say: we were kissing, so slowly, so wrapt, we were kissing; and do you remember how it felt and how we felt and all that happened in that brief elysian? I remember just that part, just that briefness. And I know that you do too. So, what matter to put it down here for outsiders to read? The moment that happened then. Just imagine if I wrote it, what stirrings the next passage would bring...
