You are currently browsing the monthly archive for August 2007.

It was all at once.
He was everything I wanted
appearing in black and white
I was a firefly with premature wings.
no visible scars.
Proud.
We drank bottles of wine and I let him tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
He looked at me, sipped, and I swallowed.
He wanted me in color.
I wanted things he couldn’t give me
I decided to see how long I could pretend it didn’t matter.
He told me I glowed and ran two fingers along the ridge of my spine.
I held my breath and he named freckles on my back that I’d never seen.
He thought I was beautiful and held my face still to tell me so.
I squirmed.
It was easier not to believe him.
He was
40 minutes
Late.
A handsome stranger bought me vodka cranberries
Black high heels dangling from a bar stool
I waited
40 minutes too long.
I dressed in ruby slippers and chased tornados.
He spoke another language and
I asked him to use it when he touched me.
I saw him enter my room as a thief
He wore the shirt I picked out for him and I felt invaded.
I set out books he did not bother to read
I threw him out of my bed and bought him coffee the next morning.
He refused to lie
I refused to negotiate when I was naked.
In the end when he left, I saw he’d taken nothing more than what I’d given him
The loss was spectacular.

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Its okay to believe in Prince Charming, but you have to believe in midnight too.

disarming (adj): tending to allay suspicion or hostility; winning favor or confidence siren (noun): a seductive or tempting woman, esp. dangerous or harmful

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