Monday, June 9, 2014

right away.

quick prose //

she was a wild thing.  her hair was unkempt and her shoes were almost always untied.  everyday, she wore button-down shirts - artifacts from a litany of relationships turned sour. he noticed right away the crow's feet flanking her eyes - the skin that folded and crinkled when she smiled - building a landscape he'd never seen on a face before.  it reminded him of the way a river broke into streams at its mouth, creating tiny flowing veins of water that pulsed and coursed their way to the ocean.

daily, she poured over crossword puzzles that she would never solve.  he wore mismatched socks that bore holes in the big toe, considering them too loved, too well-worn to ever throw away.  their initial exchanges appeared quiet, unassuming.  but from that first day, when she tripped on the frayed lace that dangled from her shoe like a spindly vine off the side of a tree, he knew that his life would be less full without her in it.

they didn't listen to the same music, or read the same books.
she couldn't commit to anything but herself.
he had a girlfriend he sometimes loved.

he tried to be good, but it seldom took shape.  at night, he'd lay in bed, beside his girlfriend who dozed peacefully with her back to his, but his thoughts drifted back to her.  he'd remember the night they had not-so-harmlessly sat across from one another, his breath: a haze of alcohol, and her sleepy eyes: lulling him with their boozy gaze.  they'd taken an empty train home that night, both swimming in a liquor-induced lust.  an hour of mechanical clicks and clanks served to do nothing but heighten their fondness of one another.  he chewed on what was happening, knowing his badness.  but her lips parted over her teeth, and her laugh danced across them in such a way that he yearned to inhale it.  the consequences of such a strange affair would prove heavy, he knew and yet her happy mouth eased his conscience.

not all love, they knew, would become the stuff of legend.  sometimes, it sustained itself only for brief moments, tucked between otherwise bittersweet hours and late-running trains.  this - this type of love - she knew she could do.. he knew he could do.  he, with wide, dark eyes and musician's fingers; she with an unnagging voice and infectious laugh - they loved each other right away.  

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