Response: Water Color
It became cold that night, I remember, but not close to unbearable. It felt colder, I remember, than it actually was because we two were so sunburned.
It had blurred in my mind like a splashed-on watercolor, but some things I remember.
His hands were warm, I remember, but not as hot as our sunburned skin. He touched me softly, I remember, stroking my hair in a conscincious, caring way.
His face had faded in my memory like a sunset, but his touch I still remember perfectly.