i remember it like it was yesterday. she kissed me under the blood red moon. we were pretentious in those days, listening to NPR and cycling everywhere; it was only a matter of time before we kissed.

so there was the moon: rising like a phoenix from the heat of the day, cooling our tender skin as we biked along the dusty road. we were both in cut-offs and plaid. our hair was slowly bleaching in the summer sunshine and our bodies were browning like lean teenage marshmallows. we were so fit! god, i wish i was still that tight! i fell off my bike, slipped on the dust, and in my total and abject humiliation i wept: openly and like a little child. she got off her bike and picked me up. she didn’t laugh or scoff or hold her breath to keep derision from creeping across her lips. she just smiled and reached out a hand and helped me up. i wiped away a tear and she leaned in and kissed me. i pulled away quickly, surprised mostly and after a breath i kissed her. we stood there, with the moon rising behind us, kissing. it felt like an hour but it was probably more like a minute. after we kissed we got back on our bikes and rode to wherever we were going. i don’t remember where we going.

we never talked about it again and it didn’t matter. it was just a thing. i don’t know if she still thinks about it ever, we haven’t spoken now for 10 or 11 years…

for my part, however insignificant it was, i won’t forget it.