Sharp spring days tired
in the glow of summer

He appeared with the sunflowers
windmills
blue-bottles
brimmed hats and hormones

‘Kick off your shoes and run’

I stared
watching his body
drinking his perfection
tasting his lips
watching them move

He dabbed the sweat
on my forehead
pulling my heart
from my chest
with an easy hand

The heat was stifling
a hot wet blanket
clinging to our skin

‘Don’t understand. Just be’.

No-one said
‘I love you’

It was a young thing
A deep scar thing
etched on the mountain

I soared above it

tumbling down
the other side
into the cool surf
and harsh sand
seeing his face
in each grain
reverberating
with juvenile afterthoughts
in every winter’s snowflake