June 28, 2005

once, i kissed

Once, I kissed a man and he sighed. He sighed like someone who had been thirsty for a very long time and I’d just given him water from my canteen. Siiiiiiigh. I decided right then I’d kiss him a hundred times just to hear that sound.

Once, I kissed a man and learned to hate the sound of my refrigerator. I cried all the way back to Connecticut, mourning, because I knew that kiss was burned into me. Tattooed. Cigarette on flesh. And I knew that we were destined to fail. I kissed him a hundred times after.

Then we failed.

Once, I kissed a stranger. Sangria and beer laced with Jack Daniels. Hostel common room. Belt buckles and a foreign name like I was praying.

Once, I kissed him in the third row of a movie theater. And then decided I would rather watch the movie. I kissed her passing jell-o shots. Once, I kissed and didn’t feel a thing except saliva and dry skin and the need to go home right now. I kissed him while the credits to Clueless rolled. I felt adored.

I wasn’t.

Once, I kissed – I was kissed – in front of a map of the world. Here, I said. Is where I lived. Here, he said, is where I’m from. Spain. Lebanon. I had to sit down on the bed, dizzy and overwhelmed. He had the most gorgeous hands I’ve ever seen. We failed, too. Thank God.

Posted by This Fish at June 28, 2005 11:59 PM
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