There are things you learn about a person by living with them that you wouldn’t learn any other way. Like the way they lean against a wall to smoke… How they like their socks folded… Why they insist on sleeping on a specific side of the bed… How they screen their phone calls… What it’s like for them to watch their favorite sports team losing to their least favorite sports team… And how fast they finish a meal if they know company won’t leave until it’s all gone.
I think it’d start as soon as I walk into the bar. I feel fairly certain we’d play it “safe” at the game. Your first WNBA game in the US. You’re probably going to watch the door because I’ll get there later than you….I’ll make it a point. I wanna walk in and have you know.. I’m there…for one person and one person only… you.
Ah, my love, you act so well. Use whatever you can to let the world know you don’t want me anymore. And you strut and preen like someone who doesn’t need or want anyone for anything. You are independent, self-assured, and don’t give a fuck. And you’ll stop at nothing to prove that to me and everyone else. Even parade through here with countless others. Others….yes.
Elevator buttons and morning air
Strangers’ silence makes me wanna take the stairs
If you were here we’d laugh about their vacant stares
But right now, my time is theirs
you skin’s always darker than mine.. you’ll joke that almost everything is darker than me.. your thumb on my lips makes you shiver.. your lips on my neck does me the same way.. it doesn’t have to be hard all the time.. it doesn’t have to go fast.. making love is a process.. it can’t be rushed.. & when we take our time, we end up the same color (red).. quivering about the same amount.. covered in love & smiles….
“Well fine, then, Mel, if you want to be a fucking bitch, just be a fucking bitch!” I storm off one way and she storms off the other, mumbling something I don’t quite understand. The God damn nerve of some people! I enter the main ballroom on the right side and slide past the people crowding the door. Feeling very out of place walking alone, I try to act casual and look for her. This is the first big “dress-up” event we’ve been to and it’s Valentine’s Day.
Somehow when she calls you “babe”, it doesn’t make you cringe. The smile on your face is sheepish, but you can’t help it, “Yeah?” Continue reading