march 14, 2008

quite often m and i like to lie next to each other or,
as last night, stand in the doorway of the kitchen with
arms round the other and, swaying semicircles to music
in the background, talk about how we were before we were
together or the us before we were an us. i like to hear
him say how he's never wanted any girl as much as he's
wanted me and how much i believe him when he says it.

and we laugh and smile though it's sweetly and aching-ly
sad when we go over the first time he tried kissing me
after a day we walked together round my neighborhood and
how the next time after that we met for lunch i told him
for one reason or another that i kind of just wanted us
to be friends. and he tells me how crushed he was and i
think of how he could've disappeared and how he did
disappear for a month or so after and i want to soothe
him and so i put my hand against his head or my fingers
in his beard and kiss him with tiny sweet kisses and hope
it makes it better and forgotten.

and our most favorite is the cinco de mayo beginning of it
all and how he'd asked me to go round celebrating and how
we'd just be friends and how he'd promised to know the
difference and how at the end of the night, into the next
morning, he broke it and kissed me anyway. and
how i kissed him back and he tells me he remembers how
shocked he was that i hadn't told him to stop and that we
just kept kissing. and i tease him for his persistance
and he teases me that it paid off. but it's true and it
has and i'm glad and he's glad and i'm glad he's glad and
there's everything and there's gratitude of each other.

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