Loud Whispers

Deep green, summer-cool grass
welcomed our shoulders.
Looking up through mimosa fronds
and flowery petals
we saw the blue-black sky
and the flickering stars.

I was thirteen, she, older by
275 days--we counted,
was bronze-skinned, smooth
to the touch.
And a face of beauty that
a camera could love.

Written in the grass was an
unspoken promise:
her body was being
offered to me, her
thirteen year-old god.
Time and darkness were our
allies, bolstering
our desires and ignorance.

Questions: Could we? Should we?
Answers: A silent string of yesses.

Her backyard our play ground;
night-time our cover.
My lips and hers
never once retreated.

Our exploring hands were
unleashed and roaming.
First base, second base,
third and then some.
Home plate in view and
a hand I'd never wash.

When the back door opened
and her mom yelled,
into the darkness,
"Sandra, time to come in!"

I froze, and then one more
kiss and I was off.



An eternity later, tomorrow
became today and
brought with it a friend.

A secret like this a thirteen
year-old just can't keep.
Childishness urged me to
blabber it out.

He, jealous, and on first sight,
asked Sandra for the same.
His reason being:
you did it for Charles.


My life with Sandra ruined
by a loud whisper
to my friend Dave.

05/02/2003

Posted on 05/02/2003
Copyright © 2024 Charlie Morgan