Do you remember...
When we were just children,
the day you awakened longing
with an awkward touch....
When you slipped your small, timid hand
under my skirt
letting your fingers crawl like a bug
along the skinny shaft of my leg,
bending to your touch like a blade of grass
to an insects weight.
Staring at each other,
eyes as wide as stars lying silent
in the face of an unknown sky;
frozen twinkling, in the heart of time.
We were only children,
but your hand was old with need,
one finger shy up against another’s eagerness.
and you pushed my cheek against
the small hard lump in your jeans
and held me still against your trembling.
My face, your hand,
brushing up against the promise
of a woman and a man.