Blue Moon and Lonely Lovers

July 14, 2013 § Leave a comment

Some of it is hazy, and I don’t know if it was the Blue Moon or the summer air or just how many times you turned and bent and touched my body, but I do know that one moment we were quietly playing the piano and the next you were inside of me. It hurt and I yelled out, but it was a good hurt, a hurt that makes you want to hurt again, like the satisfaction of a bloody knee falling off your bike for the first time, I wanted to dare again, I wanted another ride, I wanted to show off my battle scars. You were no one special, I knew that, I was no one special, you knew that, but here we were on a Sunday night tangled in one another’s warmth. And when the sun came up, it was as if the magic faded, and there were empty bottles on the floor and my makeup on your clothes, and my mind and body throbbed and yours slept. And I still think everything would have been okay, I would have never wanted us to go to a restaurant or a carnival or for you to buy me roses and sing songs outside my window, except in half-sleep you played with my feet with yours because mine were cold and yours were warm, and I knew then that I was doomed, at least for a while, to another almost lover, like that beautiful song says, a skinny love, like that other beautiful song. It was as if I had tasted love, what maybe others talk about, the subject of movies and musicals and songs and classic literature and trashy romance novels, but it wasn’t love, not even close, I couldn’t listen to those songs and pretend they were mine, because they weren’t, and when we untangled and you dropped me off at the train station, all anything had been was some piano playing and then your body dipping into mine and making us two of God’s intertwined and desperately lonely creatures.

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