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Monday, February 9, 2009

Christmas lights blinking proudly in the middle of February

It starts with a giggle while flipping through some gaudy astrology book that her roommate left behind. Tales of unresolved sexual tension hang in the air between them, like a string of Christmas lights blinking proudly in the middle of February.

Later, it begins with his hand against her back and she's suddenly aware of his leg against her own. Flames from his skin tingle through jeans and leave her thigh burned and aching. She can feel it the next day, a soft cool scar that may never fade.


It ends at the beginning of the week when softly smiled words turn to harsh exaggerations of the truth. A friendship is oddly strengthened, but torn asunder all the same. Trust and tears wash down her cheeks--and that soft cool scar? She can't remember it.

1 comment:

Charles the Third said...

You have a way with words :P
This is beautiful, yet tragic. :]