Between biology
and double maths
Christina met Benedict
in the recess

of the tuck shop
and the passage
that led off
towards the hall.

As the other members
of her class walked on,
she in whispered voice said,
I won’t see you

on the sports field lunch time
because of the ****** rain.
He moved in closer,
sensing her body press

against his
in the small space.
It might clear up, he said.
Her hands wrapped about him,

she pulled him close.
But the grass will still be wet
and they don’t let us out
if it’s wet, she whispered.

He knew that, but wanted
to feel her breath against
his skin as she spoke.
The moment seemed to be

lacking of the motion of time.
Silence filled the air about them;
the darkness of the recess
seemed lighter as their eyes

grew accustomed
to the dimness.
Miss you most
when I don’t see you, she said.

Her hands squeezed him near her.
He sensed her soft *******
against his chest.
I look at your photo

and when no one is looking
I kiss it, she breathed out
as she spoke.
I keep your photo tucked

in the small wallet
my mother bought me, he said.
he smelt her hair;
it had a scent of fresh flowers.

She pulled him in closer;
his hands felt the small
of her back, his fingers
sensed the pulse of her heart,

through the white cloth
of her blouse. The toes
of their shoes touched,
she leaned in and kissed

his cheek, moving in damp
moves toward his lips.
The small space seemed
to hold in a silence except

of their words and breathing;
their eyes grew accustomed
to the dimness of light, each
saw the others' eyes.

Foot steps drew near,
the pitter patter on linoleum
floor, they broke apart,
held hands, squeezed themselves

against the door
of the tuck-shop recess.
A teacher walked by;
unnoticed they breathed out,

hands squeezing.
The sound grew fainter.
Best go, he said, late for class.
She kissed him again,

her lips pressed hard
against his. She went out
of the recess and off
along the passage.

He stood a few seconds,
then followed; she had gone,
the dampness still clung
to his cheek and lips’ skin.

His pulse of heart raced
like the engine of a racing car,
he paced the passage like
some pilgrim without guide or star.