“It’s not as if you imagine yourself in the arms of every stranger you pass on the sidewalk – just the ones that smile at you.” – Loneliness, L. Barcia
Late afternoon. In line at the grocery store. She’s ahead of me, with a guy, probably her boyfriend. They’re medical students, wearing matching white intern coats. They’re proud – they wear them despite the heat, over their clothes. The hospital is some distance from this store. They’ve worn them all the way here.
She’s proud. And tired. And beautiful. Under the frizzy bleached hair and the darkness under her eyes she’s beautiful – or maybe that’s part of what makes her look beautiful to me.
* * * * *
“All you have are flashes, nothing concrete.” – TLP
A condo, so new it still smells of plaster and laminate. It’s dark outside. The second the door clicks shut, we start kissing. My hands wander down her body. She stops me. “We have all night.” She turns me around and holds me against her. Her fingers rest lightly on my throat. “Say my name,” she hisses into my ear. A demand, or a supplication?
I’ve been studying you. I’ve been watching the way you move. The different expressions in your eyes. The different tones of your laugh – the melody, the bray, the giggle. The way your eyes narrow.
I’ve used all these to imagine what you could be like in bed. The way you throw your head back in laughter – would you do that in your ecstasy, expose the soft curve of your neck to me? The rasp in your throat – would I hear that from you?Your strong body, your fingers, your warmth, your hair curtaining our dance.
I’m beginning to think you’ll never touch me. There are too many things in the way. But I can’t deny how much you excite me. And I must admit I often think of the way you linger.