"Can you tell me your happiest memory?" he asked. And I pondered, and I thought, and I considered, and there was nothing.
But there was your face, head on my lap, my lap on your couch, ankles on the coffee table, glow from the credits of a film on the television screen. And your eyes, as transparent as the sea, looking up at me, a small space between your lips, and the glow as I told you that yes, I was yours.
You were mine.
And the space between your lips stretched into a smile. Years later and I can still see it, a look of awe, a look that I have yet to see on another's face. And I smiled too, and laughed, and turned away, shy.
-----
"Boys Around Here" by Fences:
These mighty eyes, they look at me with no intention. They hit me twice, at first glance, and then a second time.
She said to me, "that sh*t you say can really hurt me. I wrote this note, I'll read it once. I feel like giving up."
The boys around here don't respect a thing, respect a thing at all.
The boys around here don't respect me, don't respect me at all.
It's been a while since the night that I first met you. I still got dusty shoes, fear of love, fear of losing you.
I'll be alright if I can just stay in tonight. I don't want to talk. Just let me drink, tomorrow we'll give up.
Oh Allison, I admire your writing and creativity so much. I look at the prompt and wonder how in the world to make it my own and then there you are, busting out something so creative and simple yet beautiful. Great work!
ReplyDeleteYes, I agree--way to answer the prompt, and it doesn't even sound like you answered a prompt! Lovely! And the two tie so beautifully together--the reader can just imagine and fill in what happened between the two, and I LIKE that--the open space that allows the reader to create as well. I think that's important!
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