A Poetic Retelling of an Unfortunate Seduction

Sorry for the late update. My internet was down yesterday and most of today.



Title from Bright Eyes (MySpace)



In the aftermath of our long afternoon

I drifted into unconsciousness and dreamed the future into now.

My hands were wrapped around a rust-red can, and I had

golden light and baby blue thread spilling from between pursed lips

on a swollen face, flushed and burning, hot like the air in Pompeii.



When I woke up, I got a chill, like when you come out of a warm lake on a windy day,

or like when you realize that, despite all the dusty, brown miles and

sullen, quiet years you'd driven between yourself and her,

you'd turned out exactly like your mother.

Or, at least, I had.



But when I lurched to wakefulness, you recognized the motion as an escape from some distant nightmare,

and so you tied our naked limbs together at the knees and elbows,

hugging me so hard and with so much of yourself that for a moment I thought we'd be one person,

and the force of it turned my smile to silly-putty, picking up your newsprint-ink comfort,

but the chill didn't let up

and I saw my nightmare peeking its head over the distant horizon.