I remember my neck itched after I rolled in the grass with you. The others laughed, kindly. I don’t remember laughing with them.
I remember you said you liked the shade of blue in my eyes.
I remember the dirt smeared on my leg, and only I noticed. While they went on running, I wiped it off with a leaf. The feeling stayed there.
I remember the cans of soda you brought for us to share. The fizz in my mouth was light and slight and strange.
I remember a pop of chewing gum burst. Slowly, I turned my head.
I remember a tree branch fell.
I remember my scrape stung as we waded in the water. They were all ahead, I was behind you.
I remember I thought about home, how the woods looked nothing like the city, nothing like it.
I remember their hands were warm as they pulled me aside, and the fleshy feeling made my hand sticky. We all sat by a bonfire in the dark.
I remember they traded stories, and I remember your story. My hands clasped each other behind my back.
I remember all of us ate yogurt covered raisins as smoke and ashes floated around your face. I remember the sound of your sneeze.
I remember the dirt and grass under your fingernails looked like paint. It was the first time I realized you were a painter.
I remember a sideways glance from you that sent me a shiver.
I remember that if I stared at the fire for long enough, the empty space became bleak and blue
when I looked away. I think I’m ready to die, you said. Your hair glowed in the firelight.
I remember I dreamt about my neck itching that night
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