The brightly lit vowels of your name danced
across the room and squared with mine.
Autumn to Summer, we sat side-by-side,
trading algebraic secrets and learning the shapes
of one another.
That year, I learned the accidental touch of fabric
under a too-small table, the hardness of plastic chairs,
the softness of your presence.
I learned the tinted embarrassment of schoolgirl
silliness, a breaking voice.
I learned that you, in your wholesome teenage
solidness, were equal to the
___________________________pieces of myself.
Submitted to Banshee – response by July 1