the voices outside got louder.
curious, about the american accent,
marzia and i leaned over the window,
and i saw you getting off the car
with the shirt unbuttoned and a smile.
it was summer,
the sun was shining,
my mom called me to help,
so i ran through the stairs,
properly meeting your eyes.
you had this sun kissed skin,
perhaps rough, i couldn't know
unless i touched it.
this though wouldn't go away,
it was hard, as you were there every day.
"elio, oliver", "oliver, elio",
my dad said, presenting each other.
your handshake was firm,
i glanced at you, trying not to be weak,
as you seemed very aware of yourself.
