Wednesday

Just passed a welcome sign I haven't seen
in 22 years.  
Damn that sounds old.  
But the me in my head
hasn't caught up to the slight sag in my  
skinny skin skin.
And there we are again,
Ringwood football field.  
A bunch of kids playing ghost in the graveyard at darkthirty,  
the fog tantalizingly eerie.  
So innocent, we used the rich tendrils
to keep from blushing at the sight of each other.
I used any excuse to touch you I could manufacture,
so I bumped my clumsy way into almost giving you whiplash.
I was an 8 man god, and you were the sunset goddess.  
Long stretches of November highway and the Scorpions  
still make you a teenage superstar to me.