summertime

I remember
lying with you
our bodies carving a space for themselves
in the summer air
the sun that pressed into our skin

I almost felt I could see
the grass growing--
straining upwards
to touch you

I remember
the narrow strip of your already-tanned flesh
emerging between your blue jeans and
white t-shirt
and the closeness of our hands--

how we mirrored each other's movements--
I shift to my side, you
face me
you turn to give your pale green eyes to the sun, I
echo your motion

but like mirrored images,
we cannot, do not, and
never touch