Every time I jump a wall.

I still remember that moment,
when you hugged me tight from behind,
and her shocked stare, with mouth wide open;
But you were blissfully unaware.

In moments of pain, even now,
I wish I was back on that bike with you,
burying my head into your back, reassured,
by the tilt of your head, towards mine.

I had your attention, all the time,
I wore that like a badge, like a medal,
you were the most interesting being, on earth,
and my world revolved around you.

You were my boy-to-man transformation,
You opened the forbidden door to pornography,
And instructed me on the sacred art of auto-eroticism.
We opened the gates of sexual exploration, together.

I looked into a mirror, and tried to see me, as you did,
Attractive was a word I used with others, never me.
From a haircut, to a shirt tuck, I did with care,
and yes you were right, they did notice.

I loved that you waited every evening,
to have me on your bike, and drive me home,
I felt like a king, flying in his chariot,
your questionable driving skills, notwithstanding.

And then I jumped a wall, to come to you again,
We held hands, had long walks, and huge talks;
It was never enough, one could never tire of those times;
you walked me home, and it was your turn to jump that wall.

You taught me to free myself, to let myself go,
made me aware of my own sexuality, of the beauty in my being,
and what it means to be desired, admired, and loved.
Every time I jump a wall, I think of only you.


This is poem 8 for Robert Lee Brewer's April PAD Challenge 2011. The prompt: "a poem that remembers an old relationship". Remembered here is my best friend from school, my sex-ed teacher, my innocent boy-crush, my constant companion, the shoulder for all my teenage angst, rolled into one.