Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Naomi was a teenage girl in a flowered cotton dress, a girl who walked summer afternoons barefoot through that broken perfect light of the woods to the creek. She was a girl who walked the pine-straw littered through the woods, a warm and prickly carpet beneath her, a girl born and raised in that South Carolina light, in a small town on a deepwater creek that led to a harbor that led to the great green sea.
She was a girl, too, blessed once more and forever, though she could not know it those afternoons in summer light so sweet she could taste it one her tongue: once her daddy'd turned his attention to the docks a quarter mile up creek where he'd raft up the Mary Sweet to the other trawlers, this Naomi was a girl who turned her own eyes to the stern of the boat, and to the boy in blue jeans and black rubber boots on the deck back there, hands on his hips, his shirt off and skin brown for this peaceful sun, his hair a kind of sun-drenched brown made light for that sun, his eyes squinted near shut for that sunlight too, him watching her.
Eli. The boy she loved.
Naomi was the girl who gave him the smallest of waves, the boy, her Eli, giving one back, her hand up from his hip and waving just once and then smiling.
And though she could not know it then, his was a smile she would carry with her the rest of the days, and though she could not know it too their hands raised to each other was a pact sealed all the way back then, made with no true notion in their hears they were making it, but making it all the same: you have my heart.
-A Song I knew by Heart
2:20 AM
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