It was the last week of school.
The air lightly scented with honey-suckle.
A friend with a smile that cut like a scar.
He teased me like friends often do,
and when I followed him out to his car,
I didn’t know what to expect.
I found the smell of leather,
the coolness of his hand,
the memory of his eyes twinkling.
We didn’t exchange words of compassion,
but he did say things that I dodged and burned
from my memory like in photography class.
Certain memories I swore forever at the time,
but have since vanished.
Certain memories I swore I would never forget,
but they are invisible to my memory.
But his smile that cut like a scar,
I will never forget.