reminders of then

breathing in;
it smells like it did last year:
the scent of bleach and cucumbers.
i remember your hand on mine
sudden warmth in my cheeks
sparks of acid in those eyes. . .
your eyes. . .
grey green gems with imploding centeres.
black hole irises
and i can see my reflection.

dim lightning;
like that haze:
the giddy world of teenager lovers.
hearts racing, pounding so loud
the silence broken by unsteady exhaling
your lips slightly parted,
silk and ice
your mouth on mine.
rose petal kisses and sleepy star nights.
2 am walks
you always kept me warm.

torn edges;
the worn poloroid in my hands:
you and me on the swing.
our swing.
aging rubber and rope on a giant cedar.
you pushing me high, lungfuls of clear notes
me laughing and singing along.
our swing. . .
you probably take her there now.