Memory

Memory believes before knowing remembers. Believes longer than recollects, longer than knowing even wonders. Knows remembers believes watery charcoal smudges mixed with chlorine water hang under dark brown eyes like unflattering shadows of late night worry that cause a girl to cringe with shame at unperfect make-up, in front of peers, especially through the eyes of considering males, one for certain who stood before those brown eyes in comfortable conversation.
Jane took her by the shoulder, "Babe, you have something on your face." Then with firm, careful strokes, water gray turned again to flesh.
Wet feet shifted against slippery, beige tile to face the boy, in confrontation, "I've been talking to you this whole time and you didn't say anything? These are the things you're supposed to tell me. I can't believe--"
"Lena, Lena, I didn't even notice." His hands clung to her waist against lacy, damp fabric. "I think you're beautiful, no matter what."
In reflection she took his waist into her hands. Warm smooth damp skin curved along with her palms, comfortable and encouraging. "Ren, I was just being dramatic."
"Of course," he said with a smile.