2004-04-21 - 2:45 a.m.

Enough With Direction

Unremarkably brown hair dyed scarlet; her arms clutched to her stomach, leaning forward unselfconsciously to watch. I wish it was me that was parting those lips in wonder.

I've never, when someone's turned and left my presence, gritted my teeth and wanted them, until today's morning when she came to say several things of little consequence. We leaned and talked and nothing was accomplished though a couple surface compliments were exchanged.

You'd have thought we posted banns by the teeth-showing grins all about our conversation. It's been since I was twenty that there was anyone I fervently respected and loved, and every conversation moves me into territory I'd tried to forget (an exile's homeland, too dear to remember). Now if I saw them, I'd stop to smell roses and smile at myself for the fuck of it.

And she left and I slumped and God, I wanted her.

Often I feel absurd. That's okay. I'd really like to be feeling her instead.

Unremarkably brown hair dyed scarlet; her arms clutched to her stomach, leaning forward unselfconsciously to watch. I wish it was me that was parting those lips in wonder.

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