we sat down and talked last night
beer buzzed and campy,
letting the smell of the fire penetrate
your sweatshirt (which you would lend to me)
and my hair (which you would later caress)
and we floated in our remember-when's and remember-who's.

i remember when
i remember who
me and you
when we were timid and we were shy
and the first time we met, it was with our eyes
i saw a green that stopped me in my tracks
because even at the naive age of five, i knew that it was the same green
as the onion grass in my backyard which
when spring came we always tasted
and always hated
*how it lingered even after we had our apple juice and snacks