I see her every now and then
by chance...or by design
when we show up at the same places.
There is a warmth between us
that is unspoken...
She is older than me...
only by three years or so...
(an eternity when you are thirteen
and she’s about to graduate).
She is beautiful...has
nice full lips...
and a smile that is radiant.
Thoughts of her made me wake more than once...
to a puzzling dampness
in my bed.
I saw her in her underclothes once
as I gamboled in the dark
playing hide and seek
with my cousins and friends.
I saw the light go on
in the bedroom
and I stopped and watched from
a snow-covered pile of stone
on my uncle’s patio.
It was her.
She was just changing into some
It was the first time I had ever
seen a woman (other than Mom and my sisters)
in their underwear.
This was a gift from God...
as I steamed...
in the cold.
Her underclothes were unremarkable
by today’s standards
This was long before Victoria’s Secret had become
every young boy’s inflammatory
catalog of choice.
My thrills came from Sears and Roebuck
But she was living...breathing...
this was the first time I had
ever seen them MOVING!
Her bra and underpants were plain and
white...but she filled them well.
She never removed them although
I was hoping she might.
Our only experience together only lasted
for as long as it takes to
change from one outfit to another.
She never saw me out there
bathed in the light from the room
with a silly grin
on my face
No...we never got together. She dated my
brother and married my friend.
We've stayed close through the years.
We never spoke of a young boy’s
infatuation or of what thrilled
me that cold night. We’ve never shared
of any of this but we both sense it.
Every time we meet we light up.
Hugs are few and far between
but when they do happen...they always linger...
longer than most.
We have never kissed
but I’m always tempted by the thought of it.
She always seems pleased to see me
and laughs at my jokes.
She always leans into me when she speaks...
as if she's about to whisper something...
and when she does...
I smell her perfume.
I tell her she’s beautiful
and she lets me.
Oh, the beauty of a young boy’s crush...
that pure love he lavishes
on the object of his sweet, sweet thoughts...
unencumbered by the crippling
desire to possess what you’ve tasted
and the baggage that brings.
My crush has lasted most of my life
unrequited and will likely endure
the rest of my life the same way...
unsullied by the stresses and strains of
a life together
undiminished by under-appreciation.
When I see her, I am once again
filled with the innocent exuberance
of a young boy in love...
...for the very first time.