Tension is a very human thing.
by Nicholas Hartmann
Nicholas Hartmann is a recent graduate of The Ohio State University, where he studied English and professional writing. He tries to create poetry with an honest tone that relies on imagery and the line. His themes often incorporate relationships and the passage of time, an interest he attributes to influences such as Louise Glück, Toni Morrison, and F.Scott Fitzgerald. Nick is always welcoming new voices as well as comments or criticisms. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
It was during a summer that lasted
long enough to be noticed. Back when we were young
and still sensitive to the seasons. The sun was flickering
through the dense tree line along our path,
warming our bodies the best it could. We rode
our bikes through the wood, away from all the things we knew.
And then you fell. Your leg had a nice
scrape on it, serious enough to have a look at.
Not that serious. Then I noticed I was touching your thigh and we both decided
you were fine.
Later on, we'd sit by the pool
and I'd pretend not to notice the occasional contact of skin here and there.
But I'd stay up when the sun went down,
listening to crickets rub their legs together without a care in the world.
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