Beer and Love...

The heat was getting to both of us.

 He made beer. I made love. 

 We were just roommates. 

 Best friends forever after just one summer month. 

We shared a trailer on the waterfront

 in a place some call heaven-on-earth.

At least, that's what I called it. 

High desert sun, sage brush and towering pines.

 Walks to hidden waterfalls and deep hotsprings.

In mid-summer, that sky lights up like the song. 

Purple. You know?

 

Our bodies stuck like glue.

 He quivered the whole time. 

Pale freckled skin against olives in August.  

 Neither of us said a word

 but water rushed through the earth

 just outside out our window

and we could hear the neighbor blaring NPR.

 It was too hot to do anything else. 

 Water dripped and ice melted.

 Sheets pulled from the corners.

 I finally got to smell his neck. 

The whole time we knew

 friends don't do this. 

After, he laid there like a cat in the sun

and told me he'd always wanted that to happen. 

And now what? Now what?

I got up and walked to my side of the trailer.

 We stared at each other decided to play all weekend long.

 Back and forth.

Me and him. Him and me.  

Until the heat broke.

 And never again were we friends.

love