Older Than Words

"ain’t no doubt about it
we were doubly blessed
‘cause we were barely seventeen
and we were barely dressed.”
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                       *
                       *
                       *

The radio played
in the darkness of his mom’s garage.
He stood before me and
stuck out his tongue to make me giggle.

“I didn’t do nothin’”
he told me
and stuck it out again.

He pressed me against the washing machine
before moving his lips over my neck
in a series of kisses
each of them 
sparked something unknown and primal
something older than words
something envied by oceans.

My fingers tingled with their own fire 
they tugged and squeezed and pulled him close.
Skin to skin was not close enough.

He led me into the backyard
where fingertips and lips flickered and sparked
flint striking pyrite
over and over
until the fire caught.   

On a blanket
concealed by a willow
we burned until morning.

________________________________________

Lyrics to Paradise by the Dashboard Light

Composed by Jim Steinman. Recorded by Meat Loaf. 

How did you know there was a follow up to my Bicentennial poem? 

The story is long and complicated, but the abridged version is this: 

About a year after the bicentennial, my family moved to Upstate New York, so he and I had no contact for years. This poem takes place during the time I went back to California to visit my grandfather. But then I had to go back to New York. 

Five more years went by. When I was twenty-two years old, he started calling me. Soon he moved to New York to be with me. I thought I was in love. But he ended up marrying my best friend, which put a strain on our friendship for a while. Now, I thank her for stealing him though, because he turned out to be a cheater.