but wait! there's more...!!!

after delving deeper into my diaries, I guess I didn't like the rather stark
ending of the last story. Sometimes I surprise myself.
so, here it is...

Disappearing act.

"I love you, Siobhan"
She rolled over onto her back,
supporting herself on her elbows.
"I'll turn the tv off, fuck the weather."
She swung her legs over the far
side of the bed and padded slowly
across the room and switched off the set.
As she disappeared in the dying glow,
the only clues of her presence were her
measured steps in the dark.


Winter is a private time.
Like the world outside hoarding it's secrets
in winter, they hid the total of their true love
from each other.
He, because he loved her so much, that
it would have consumed him to give it all
to her.
She, because, well, there was never anyone
who had wanted all of her love before, and she
held the all of it back, just a bit.
That was her fault, she knew. She had offered it
all once before and it was not a good thing.
This time was different, but she couldn't let it go,
She sat on the edge of the bed and felt
for his hand. Grasping it tightly she sat looking
out the bedroom window.
In the headlights of the passing cars, she saw it
was starting to snow, just lightly.
It was January.


Every time they touched, it was like making
Every time silent words passed between them,
it was like making love.
He loved to touch her.
She loved being touched by him.
In the dark he would trace her body with
his fingertips.
He knew every inch of her, like a
roadmap for the blind.
Journeys in the dark.


They rarely had sex.
They were awkward with each other that way.
It seemed like a broken counterpoint
to their love.
There were times when the physical need
took over and then it was wonderful.
But it never was the ultimate goal.
It was never like walking her dog.

Again, January.

"See, it is snowing again," she said.
"Yes," he said, releasing her hand and
slipping down under the covers.
She joined him.
He rolled over behind her and wrapped
her in his arms.
She pulled closer until they felt as one.
"Snow again," he whispered to her in the dark.
She whispered back, "It's January..."

Breakfast Special.

As he held her, he breathed in the scent of her
He loved the scent of her hair.
She worked as a waitress in a diner
a few blocks from their apartment,
and, despite showering as soon as she got home,
her hair always carried a slight reminder of
kitchen smells and cigarette smoke.

Nylon lizard.

When she came home from work at night
it was usually late and she was so tired.
He would greet her with a hug and would
unzip the back of her uniform.
She would shrug her arms out of it and
let it fall to the floor like a worn out skin.

The caffine/nicotine astronaut.

While she took her shower, he would
put on some coffee and sit at the kitchen
table waiting for her.
When the coffee was ready, he would
pour a cup for himself and sit, looking out
the kitchen window at the dying lights of
the city, drinking coffee and chainsmoking
He would blow across the top of the cup
and take a noisy sip, while the cigarettes
would bounce between the ashtray and
his lips, like some Cape Canaveral
paper heartbeat.

Pink Pearl.

And so it went.
He loved her.
He would always love her.
Even if this, for some horrible reason, ended,
he would always love her.
There was no eraser big enough to
ever remove her from his heart.

"All this..."

he thought.
And it was still January.


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