Physical Education
By Jamie Rider
8 a.m. he slinks through the door
kept unlocked for both our benefit.
He climbs in to bed beside me
with certain grace I can never replicate.
Arms wrap around me, pull me in
to the warmth radiating off his body,
the curvature of my spine lit on fire.
Lips brush my neck as his legs rub mine,
“Let’s just stay here”, words never spoken,
tattooed on my skin with goose bumps.
Some mornings I will myself to turn
around and catch his lips before they break
in to that familiar formation of words.
Wanting nothing more than my hands in his hair,
and the pressure of his hands on my hips.
That was the heat I wanted in the early hours,
not the heat on my cheeks that would come
later as I lied to my mother about the missed
classes and failed exams that were replaced
by reassurances spoken through teenage bodies.
kept unlocked for both our benefit.
He climbs in to bed beside me
with certain grace I can never replicate.
Arms wrap around me, pull me in
to the warmth radiating off his body,
the curvature of my spine lit on fire.
Lips brush my neck as his legs rub mine,
“Let’s just stay here”, words never spoken,
tattooed on my skin with goose bumps.
Some mornings I will myself to turn
around and catch his lips before they break
in to that familiar formation of words.
Wanting nothing more than my hands in his hair,
and the pressure of his hands on my hips.
That was the heat I wanted in the early hours,
not the heat on my cheeks that would come
later as I lied to my mother about the missed
classes and failed exams that were replaced
by reassurances spoken through teenage bodies.
About the Author
Hi my name is Jamie Rider. I am currently a senior Journalism major at Cal U. I am the entertainment editor of the college newspaper as well as vice president of SPJ (Society of Professional Journalists) here on campus. Some of my hobbies include include collecting/brewing different types of tea and people watching.