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Pinwheel

July 4, 2010

There have been thirty-six other Fourths, other summer nights when the sky exploded and I loved the spectacle. But it was the one where we sat on the dock, lakeside, invited inside the crowd control barriers by a friend with access, that I return to every year. It was the one where I leaned back a bit and felt him catch me, and our sun-warmed legs rested against each other’s. Later that night, he kissed me next to my car in the cul-de-sac, and my heart turned into a spinning, fiery pinwheel of light.

2 comments

  1. very nice


  2. Thanks, Clint.



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