Sunday 1/15/2006 11:33:00 PM

Socks still on. Bed still made. The contingency plan took effect. Just a few more beers and then we'd both feel better. The night would bend and fold into soft packets at our feet. The rug would be lifted and soon nothing would be left except what we wanted to feel.

No red roses. No sonnets. Culled from withered hearts. Just truth so brutal that there had to be beauty in it. Some real scars. Some figurative ones. Skin lit like torchieres as the ceiling embraced us.

There was never the necessity to take off our clothes. See eachother undressed. It was better that we only saw what we had to. Shorts and t-shirts showed more than enough. Every breath that blinked between us. Every moment snatched away from that other life he had.

It was all so alive then. Like dying must be. Seeing it all transpire one more time before it's all gone forever.

There'd always been too much time until then. There'd always been so many paths. But none that ever led anywhere. I knew that one wouldn't either, but I had to follow it. It might not have had a destination, but I knew there was a journey there. One I wanted to know.

He only saw my breasts once. They were too small for him I think. He always lingered on my arms. On my back. Looking for somewhere no one else had been.

I never saw his chest. He wouldn't let me. I never knew what he concealed. Not there or anywhere else.

We never knew much about eachother other than that we both were looking in all the wrong places.

My consolation that he's better off with his life now having known me.

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