you own your memories, and can
treat them as you
please

after they have sex in the woods by
the sweetly babbling stream, the tall dark muscular 19-yr-old boy
slides over, leans down, and begins to gently kiss and
lick the tiny little nipples of the skinny little
blonde boy, 20 but looks 15.
"well now," says the tall dark muscular boy, "ya wanna
get married, move in together, swear our love, 
sex, and allegiance
to just each other?"
the skinny little blonde boy thinks about it for
a coupla seconds.  "yes," he says.  "yep, yes, yeah."
and so they spend the rest of the sultry summer afternoon
naked, engaged in wildly energetic and
mutually agreeable sex acts out there in the summer woods by the
friendly babbling stream.  then they drive back to town,
move into the skinny little blonde boy's apartment,
start cooking, cleaning, washing clothes, keeping
house together. they have sex frequently.
they can't keep their hands off of each other.
life is one big wondrous whirlwind
swirling hot and fast and
furious ah love
ah youth
just ah.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem was published in Chiron Review, Issue #81, Winter 2005.)