as we grew older

i can still remember

the first

love letter i wrote.

it was to the girl next door.

written

at my desk

with ink and paper.

generous with praise.,

undying affection.

were we

in love?

perhaps. but let's call it love

for now.

i can see her

still

sitting on the stoop.

her scratched knees.

i can

smell her washed hair

falling to her shoulders.

i can feel

the first time she held

my hand.

at the movies.

hoping for more as

we grew

older.