Do you remember
the back of the station wagon
the fog on the windows
the press of my lips in the dark?
So readily the memories come to mind
the taste of sweat along the crease of your collarbone
the pearlescent glow of my skin in the moonlight
the badgering hope that we wouldn’t get caught.
There are days it feels like a lifetime ago
the way you kissed me, hard, full of desperation
the rug burn on my knees and elbows come dawn
the drumming of our frantic hearts.