She’ll be coming soon. Past family
friend. Brown skin, soft
on the touch from

lotion-rubs. She’s always been what
pretty is. Stylish. She was riveting,
just her walk

made eyes last a stare long enough
to forget a thought. I’ve never
forgotten. She used to

let me sip from her drink. I, my
tongue unaware of how lucky
it was. Didn’t matter then,

‘cause now, I understand. If she never
aged, I’d want to do wrong. Brush
my hand across certain

areas, this time, purposely. When
I was ten, she’d watch me. Sit
on her lap

watching TV-shapes I shouldn’t have. Was
cool like a breeze-breath on the
hot porch. She’ll be here

& I’ll have questions. Now, I can’t
sit still. Legs, shuddering like
grass-blades outside. It’s been

a while since my heart beat like this. My tongue
can’t exit from dryness. Only been
ten years,

but the bridge seems too long to reconnect
the foundation. I bet her smile
is still that new

coin in my raggedy pocket. This tumult
is damning. I could wash my feet
from the sweat

gathered in my socks. & my face
is merlot, now. Car, enters. There she is,
draped softly in a full-length

vintage-piece. Her face has changed, but nothing
else. Enters the space, still with the scent that
when I think of it, fills my nostalgia fix.

The embrace, just like I thought. The rest of this night,
remembering. I’ll play her voice until
memories can play it for me.