I get your text message.  Excitedly, you agree and the time is set.  9 pm seems days away as opposed to half an hour and I make my way to the lake.  Near the dorm, flooded in light, our greeting seems normal.  Salutations appropriate.  But once we step toward the dimness of the lake, an electrifying staticism grows between your hand and mine.  Suddenly my kneck feels warmer and the quickly decreasing space between our bodies is the most urgent thing on my mind.

Neither of us wants to break the brewing spell so we silently agree not to speak and allow the inevitable to unfold.  The first brush of skin against skin occurs during the slow pace we purposefully choose as if our time together will expand and slow time as long as we intentionally exist.  The fire grows from my pinkie and spreads slowly throughout me.  The lean of a tree invites me to rest my back and I smile softly.  You pause, clearly thinking, deciding, before you move.  One foot in front of the other.  The gap between us closes.  Our personal bubbles have merged and I can see the short light hairs on your cheeks.  When you reach for my hand its already there.  My eyes never leave your gaze.  Under the moon, we share our first kiss.


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