It's the feeling you get in your stomach just before she undresses you and you undress her. The feeling you get when the passionate kiss begins to mean more. When the hands first slide down and the first button is undone. When the hair gets messy and the kiss gets wet and nothing else matters.
That's the feeling in the stomach.
It's the feeling you get when you hear THAT song and you turn it up and you get in the shower, together or alone, and as the water beads on your shoulder and drip tickles over your lips you scream what words you know and make up the rest. And when you get out, it's not cold. When you get out, you're still dancing and naked and bouncing bouncey you stare in the mirror and laugh.
It's the feeling you get when for the first time that year you step out in t-shirt and shorts and old battered converse and the sun rewards you and so do the girls on the street. That first short skirt, that first flimsy flighty shoulder showing dress. And your stomach works with your sex and they both tell the corners of your mouth to turn it up baby, turn it up...smile that fucking spring fever smile. And you do. And the twinkle and the cheek returns.
And you remember how to skateboard.
And you remember how to play guitar.
And you remember that Beer Gardens are always welcoming.
And you remember what she tastes like outside in the sunshine.
And the fucking grass, the air even the grey suit concrete smells good.
And so do you.
And you see it stretching out in front of you.
It's coming, it's so fucking coming and it's not going to end.
And you're too young to die.
And summer, spring, any fucking thing, injects you with passion and youth and sex and drive and creativity and spunk and cheek and humour and fun fun motherfucking fun here it comes...
Hi.
