the porch light is out at midnight
no one waits up, we snuggle in darkness
he lives three blocks away, no one
waits up for him either
the bowling alley was crowded
in another kind of obscurity,
this not-daring-to…
yet my hand brushed up against his
scoring our strikes and spares
at the soda counter, trying not to melt
feeling his eyes follow me everywhere
love is simple at sixteen
the trouble begins
when we realize that other
boy-to-boy friendships
don’t end in physical closeness
will never share this tender budding love
to survive, even as we pump iron in the gym
we will steel ourselves against the assaults
praying daily
they will only remain verbal jousts
and that some ignorant fist will not spoil
the sweet lips I’m kissing right now


the porch light
[2012.15.4…b]