My Recollection

I close my eyes and I still see

the brackish sheen exertion

in summer’s oppression

dressed her flesh in.

Her palms pressing my chest in

with arms supporting the weight

of primordial woman’s

expression of love, realized.

Mere words will fall short

at that age – our lexicons abridged

by lives we hadn’t yet lived

enough to expand our vocabularies.

With emotionally immature

hearts – unripe and raw –

we fervently explored territory

only weeks before scarcely charted.

A frontier, although not pure,

still seemingly pristine

in each other’s eyes

where we found ourselves reassured

that this was as right as it was good.

Embracing all the more

the further loss of our innocence,

but at least this time “en amour.”

-HymnAgen