shallowdeep

reflections

50 kilos slide aside. one door closes. outside, between storms, another opens. reading pulp, a classic enters and i don't even look up. blinded by indifference.

evening. stars sparkle after jets splash. near daily rain for weeks now. humidity sinks and things cling. fingers on painted wood become gummy. growing up, i hated when people said 'it's not the heat, it's the humidity.'

my second shower today, forty five minutes already waning to beads on my chest, right in the middle. voices carry. guided by late night conversations across the pitch lawn to a picnic table. some faces to recognize in the moonlight, others foreign. idle talk, it's late and caffeine trails like dry air.

wine passes round. a warm feeling embraced. unable to drink tonight, caffeine screams and i hear its call. a classic looking girl asks for cake. the raison d'etre of a midnight coffee run.

'i'll be back,' i say. 'with cake.' blonde. cloudy eyes.

late night illuminated from streetlight halos and turning headlights. i arrive. two shots of espresso, 3 pieces of cake and an exit later i'm back in the car. windows lower to joey ramone, the kkk took my baby away. my mind ablaze.

on the lawn, wired now. wines tip past lips. australian. cake eaten, a smile breaks. humidity disappears, if only for a moment. she calls me eccentric and i say she's a pixie, as long as we're calling each other names. it's not quite right and i know it.

meet a computer scientist who does genome research. used to live in berkeley and marin county. his commute was a 10 minute bike ride, 20 minutes on the ferry across the bay, then 5 more on the bike. lucky bastard. i feel uneasy. it's the little things every time. i swear.

look up from genome boy. eyes meet with classic girl. my smile presses back. cloudy blue eyes, then away.

our group, smaller now, moves inside. hot, late i grab classic girl for ice cream. a short walk up the alley to the store. small words open her smile as we walk. it draws me in. warm, a free spirit. blonde, tan, casual. haven't been looking here, 3rd floor, tres california. i catch her smell and it pitches my head back slightly. be near to notice. eyes close, tongue wet.

back at her apartment, ice cream for 4. 3 spoons so i feed classic girl chocolate. spoons go to sink, friends say good bye. at dawn i lay breathing deeply.

posted by: shallowdeep at 06/14/04 21:54 | link | comments (1) |