perfect. that’s what we were.
a specious statement made by him when it was only the two of us and glasses of soda with drops of water around the rims of the cups that showed it was summer and the ice in our drinks was melting. i would give him a decorous smile and try not let him see the knot that tied itself in my stomach.

on hot, sticky days when i’d forget to validate his sick romantic statements, he’d become officious.
he said he’d do anything to make it okay.
i wanted to say that i was fine and i was eager for winter.

summer was too warm. it kept him too close.

i loved him, but how long would he be a hiatus in my stability?
he made my breath unsteady. he made my heartbeat cold.

01/10/2005

Author's Note: found this. written in may 2004.

Posted on 01/10/2005
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