summer and glass.

all i remember is the constant trembling i felt
before her.
standing in front of me or sitting to the left of me on the porch on I st.
she was beautiful.
she was not mine.
her hair was different but it was growing.
i would lie on my living room floor and think of her while
listening to the cd's she suggested.
yes. it was all very dramatic.
yes. falling in love is very dramatic.

and that night when she came over in that blue and white dress,
my heart fell to her hands
my eyes closed shut
to the right.
i needed no more sight.
this was enough.
this will always be enough.
(i hope)

and last summer was nothing but repetition and glass.
full of odd endings and departures for the night.
she was sleeping in the next room
beside me.
pressed chests to the same floor boards, never knowing.

and i wanted to eat that glass.
keep it inside of me whole.

tender and empty.
violent and wordless.

i remember touching her skin for the first time.

i remember falling fast asleep.