the girl next door

when you were young
maybe twelve or thirteen
there was a girl
next door you were
madly in love with.
she was your first
kiss, your first set
of butterflies
floating around in
your nervous belly.
she was taller,
stronger, faster
than everyone,
boys or girls.
she was a mythical
legend on the streets
for her athletic prowess.
she had learned
to crack a bullwhip
when she lived in
Hawaii and demonstrated
this skill
by snapping leaves
off a tree,
or a can out of your
trembling hand.
you imagined marrying
her at some point.
you named your children,
you would live on
a house boat.
you would make love,
whatever that was,
for hours on end.
but time went by, she
moved, and when you ran
into her years later
you hugged and kissed,
reminisced,
then she introduced you
to her wife, judy,
who she had just married.