boys

a room full of boys,
most of them tall and thin,
some of them prettier than i will ever hope to be.
unkempt hair, pale skin, and tweed.

long, capable fingers made for smoking, for playing instruments (flipping through the pages of books, running through hair, fitting perfectly against the smalls of backs, intertwining with a with another set.)

i try to draw as little attention as possible, fumbling with my plastic cup and cigarette, gazing intently at an empty stage. occasionally, surreptitiously, looking towards the bar.

he is seated there, sneaking bashful glances at me through the doorway, but he is too late because my heart is already two places at once:

there is a boy who isn't with me but i can still feel his kisses on my lips.
there is a boy who just walked in, and i've never seen him before, but i'm instantly in love.

oh! maybe he isn't too late - because there are some nights i feel like i could fall in love with everything a thousand times over.

(there are some times when i feel like i can't love anything or anyone else at all, ever, because i love so intensely there doesn't seem to be room for anything new.)

and then he walks up, the bashful one. i'm with my closest and dearest. (the gold standards - i don't want, but i admire, and they have my heart entirely. maybe this is what i mean by my inability to love anything new)

"fucking gorgeous" he tells them, with a wave of his hand towards the stage they just left.

in that moment he had me. shot me clean through.

and i want.

7:47 p.m. - 2003-11-04

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