It began in Clarkesville.

We met below the white gazebo, the one on the green in the center of the square. It was just a small southern town, but it was halfway between. Or so you said. Really, I think it was closer to me than you, but you didn't mind. It was a place we could be alone and unrecognized.

You drove your green jeep and wore loose khaki's with a white t-shirt. Your hair was long back then, a mass of golden curls. I saw you walking towards me and I felt unsettled.

In the music store we looked at records and you stood behind me, sliding your hands around my waist as if you had done it before. It was the simplest touch but I felt it all over. Afterwards, we went to the playground behind the middle school and sat on the swings. That's when we kissed for the first time, remember? And there was nobody else in the world, just me and you and that playground.


  1. i feel like i wasn't meant to read this, that i accidentally opened your journal and fell upon this page and i feel a little guilty.

  2. yeah... me too... but i like it


( hippies always welcome )