I thought you saw me; my shoes, glasses, and that one strand of hair hanging in the wind. Much too long, curling only at the very end. The bruise on my knee when we danced sporadically (hardly rhythmic) to funky beats; lingerie I wore although I wasn’t at all comfortable with my body. Sometimes I imagined you were really listening, my lips trembling in desperation and uncertainty, words gushing out but winding around your ears like a draft of air through the back door. I apologize; I stared at your face hoping I would see one flaw, one freckle I had missed in my previous speculations. I was invisible all along.
At the very least.
Why invite pain into the mind? Some say it is to mold and shape, learn and remodel; what shape would I be and then what color would I change when my eyes betrayed me? It is difficult to hide when even my entrails seem transparent. Ah, but she would understand; hold my hand in the silence and tell me its all okay. Yeah, our teeth would sparkle in the small beam of light bounding through the keyhole in the basement door, the dark suffocating our intentions but squeezing out little bits of hope in the process. And she says aloud “At least we’re still laughing.”
Submitted to 6S.
