When I was around fifteen years old
I watched my first real crush hold hands with another girl.
In an instant perspective changed.
That puppet turn of head in the playground-
The glimpse of her chin dropped in laughter,
His palm cupped at her waist,
Felt like the worst heartache in the world.
All will know those times;
In later years swept aside for a true concept of love.
I hold him as though a sea of china would smash if I didn’t.
Many will know the linger of the snap of tongue;
A stain scrubbed at, fading, almost, but not quite.
On the walk it starts to rain and tree bark dampens.
The dog raises her tail and chases the stick-
Leaps at it, grabs it, tosses it up.
She won’t bring it back, she’s distracted by
A jogger, by the thud of feet.
I need to hold him like that, when
Pen won’t touch paper and everything jars.
Some will know.
~S L. James