summer 83 & peaches

still italy

green grass,
hot sun,
warm skin,
sweet voices.

that's how i remember it.
still summer, still 1983.
still me, still marzia,
still you, still chiara.

i observed the way you were playing,
never getting tired of the game.
you were sweaty, probably hot,
then you turned around and smiled.

i followed you with my eyes,
mesmerized,
the way you'd drink the fresh water,
then stared at me.

i held a gaze with you,
not sure what you were thinking about.
i tried to escape when i felt
skin touching skin.

it was your arm in my shoulder,
i got rid of it, i was confused.
i hated myself,
you probably thought i was odd.

i couldn't admit back then,
but i really liked
the touch of your hand,
pressing my shoulder.