{Poetry}: Day 25: a First

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.

-L.G.

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