You tasted like beer every time you kissed me. The cheap kind, because that’s all we could afford. “I’m going to make you my wife one day.” It’s so easy to make promises of forever when you are so young. But I believed every word, listening to the waves crash in the darkness; a satiation I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. You were terrible for me, but I recall you so beautifully.
It was a slow drip, the way he made love to me. Exhaling sighs into my bones, letting fire mix with marrow. His fingers pulsed into my skin, and I could feel his heart beat under the blue rivers of his wrist. I let him seep into me. The smell of his evening shower, and the grizzly needles along his jawline dotting Braille along my shoulder blades.
It hit me hard. Hearing that you were engaged to someone else. I still have that diamond ring you had given me five years ago. In that little black box – I keep it in a brown paper bag on the top shelf in my closet. But that’s not really the point here. In some ways, it feels like another lifetime. And in others, I am back on that high school dance floor, the last song of the night, and I am letting you kiss me. Warm and thrilling.