Walking south on lower Broadway on a Sunday afternoon. The sunbeams are still warm but in the shade there's a cool that we hadn't thought about since last spring. As we passed Trinity churchyard I put my arm across your shoulder, so scared you might pull away. But you wrapped your arm around my waist and pulled me closer to you. God what a high!
You were wearing that grey cardigan that I liked so much, over a white t shirt and blue bell bottoms. You slipped your hand down from my waist and into the hip pocket of my jeans. At Exchange Place the light and the traffic were against us and we stood like hopeful immigrants.
When the light changed we crossed the narrow street and stood on that little plaza of tile and concrete and shiny stainless steel.
And I don't care what you said later, you kissed me first!
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