The Summer of '88

It’s an endless summer night.

The heat and humidity stick to my skin.

We’re walking—our usual circuit. Two miles, give or take.

It’s late, but neither of us cares.

I can smell your cologne. It’s intoxicating.

We talk. About all kinds of things.

You’ll be leaving soon, but I push it from my mind.

I want to capture these moments. Burn them in my memory.

What is this between us?

I’m young, but I know.

I never believe you feel the same.

I want this walk to last forever.

I want us to last forever.

But all too soon, it’s over.