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65th and columbus
by Angela Thomasi willingly missed the bus three times tonight. right after
we walked past puff daddy on central park west, the bus arrived
at it's stop and i hesitated. because his hand was in mine
and it felt so right, so good. the night was cool, the air
was damp, the streets were quiet, my mind was clear. i wanted
to keep walking. our feet moved. our hands did not. on a street
corner, mid-sentence, mid-stride, he stopped and pulled my lips
to his own. a soft 'oh' escaped into a kiss. underneath his hand
on my neck and his teeth around my lip, i kissed him back. and
another bus drove past. we walked past townhouses, doormen, parks,
shops, bars, cars, and people. we walked in a complete circle,
telling our own non-fiction stories as we went, back to the
familiar bus stop i'd waited at a hundred times before. staggered to,
slumped on, cried into. and another bus passed. this is sobriety
at its finest. it's a trembling, waiting, willing, wanting kind
of thang. and it is, without a doubt, completely worth it. 04/07/2009 Posted on 04/07/2009
Copyright © 2024 Angela Thomas
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