I remember the girls of my summers
as if she were held together with butterfly glue,
the one who taught me that sandy beaches make salty kisses
The one that ran like wild horses
in the hard packed sand
at the edge of the surf
until I staggered to a halt
heart fluttering against my chest like a scared caged bird
hands on my knees
trying not to fall all the way down
while she pounds to a graceful halt
in the summer light
The one running back to me
on a lonely road
to say I love you
The one at the party
where we were wearing yellow paper hats
celebrating famous heads
as the rain streaked the scant street lights
down her windows
and laughter poured from our souls
The one walking outside
along the fence
where the horses talk about
how the grass is greener
everywhere but here,
her smile striking glancing blows against my heart
The one whose life force thrummed against my being
holding me upright though I felt like
water running through her fingers
The one that met my eyes across the boardwalk and smiled
freezing me to that moment in time
without ever speaking her name,
vanishing in the wash of bodies
as I stood rooted as an old oak.
I remember the girls of my summers,
memories held together with butterfly glue
memories as sharp as that look
she used to spear me with
when I made bad jokes
As painful as her elbow in my ribs
when I spoke fluent stupid
As soft and quiet as that still moment together
sitting in the dusk on the damp spring ground,
shoulders touching, drawing the same sweet breath
I still can taste.
