State of grace

We gathered beneath the bridge created by the wide granite stairs

To plan our lazy summer nights as we sat on milk crates pilfered from stores long since shuttered and drinking discount wine from takeaway cups

A nod, a glance, a budding romance

We fell in and out of love to the sounds of Friday night basketball games and foreigner blaring from tinny car radios

A breath hitched high in your chest, as the flush of desire beat relentlessly in your breast, loosening your gait, your hair tossed carelessly, calculated to enchant as hips swung in a choreographed dance that we couldn’t possibly understand but nevertheless knew the first rudimentary steps

We lived then in a state of grace strengthened by the carelessness of our youth

We worried about dances and drinking and being caught in our attempts to run free and the punishment that would be imposed as we sought to be unique and somehow the same

The terrifying moment when his hand slips beneath your shirt to caress the small of your back as you simultaneously lean in and back away seeking the courage to say no, or yes

Never really understanding the ramifications of the question left unasked just seeking and grasping and trying to be heard even if only for that moment where you are poised between the innocence of youth and a woman’s desire

The act of being was our poetry even as we didn’t understand the importance of our futures, didn’t know we could question the world

And sometimes we settled for the only answer we could understand, a kiss to quell the loneliness that invaded your soul which was so very afraid to live life alone.

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