It was all your fault, the way you got me milk
when my glass was empty and stole my friendship bracelet
and wore it around your neck like a choker and grabbed my hand
and ran to show me two snakes fighting on a rock
and wouldn’t let go even though they were gone
when we got there, breathless and laughing.

I told you there were rules about running
how you could trip and sue me
and sue the camp and you said you would never sue me
not for a million dollars cause I was the nicest counsellor
in the whole place, and why did I wear glasses
since I had such nice eyes.

And at that moment I noticed the shiny round beads
of sweat on your forehead
that I wanted to wipe off with my bandana
and the dust on your legs in ripped-up jeans shorts
that curved like a grown woman’s
and I said we should be getting back for swimming period.

The other night you moved your cot near mine
and you told me stories about school and your family
and how silly all the other girls were and how ugly
all the little boys were, not cute and strong like I was
and I told you about the stars and how they were like people
some just newly birthed, tiny and bright
others old and dim, almost extinguished
and how sometimes I thought of how terrible it was to be an old star
how cold and lonely and terrible it would feel
to slowly fade.

And you said you would rather explode and
shoot out sparkles like fireworks
and I laughed and thought that would be great
till my co-counsellor shushed me
and we giggled some more.

No else understands me here like you do
the way you listen so intently and bring me
pretty stones and feathers you’ve found, yet quick
to follow my orders when I give them,
which is why you’re my favorite camper.

Last night you whispered you had to go pee
and I said the rules were that a counsellor had to go with you
but somehow I forgot my flashlight
and you found my hand and we found
that rock where the snakes weren’t
and then someone was kissing someone
but I don’t think it was me that started it
and anyway what was I going to do
wake up the whole camp?

Today I am sitting at breakfast, sipping my milk
and you are gently kicking me under the table
and I am trying not to think about
taking a long walk with you into the woods
where I know there is a quiet cave
near a stream that runs off
into the wild.


©rikpanganiban
may 1997