Chapter 21

Then the notes change and it’s a different song, something new, and the moment is gone. Like our team, gone. Like you.

When I get home, I’ll dig out the videos my mom made for me of our games. I’ll turn off the lights and watch us play. I’ll look for those tell-tale touches you used to give me, and I’ll listen for your voice.

And I’ll tell myself maybe it’s better this way, maybe we’ve changed and there’s probably no way we can get back what we once had, but that doesn’t mean I won’t ache for you in my lonely bed tonight.

Peaches and Cream

you are peaches and cream

thick, heady, sweet

you are the intoxicating scent

of the magnolia blossoms

pale in the moonlight

you are the summer breeze

warm against hot, flushed skin

you are the babble of a tiny brook

swollen with rain, straining

to break free from the sandy banks

struggling to boil over

you are the strength coiled in a horse's legs

galloping across open plains, empty expanses

caverns and canyons and arroyos