-So his ego has shown itself at last,
as you always knew it would;
scent lurking beneath the surface
of his clean skin and self-deprecation.

But his back is in terrible shape
for a young man who doesn't dance his way
out of trouble,
so much as he just keeps an eye
on the far-off fire exit at all times.

-He has to make sure to fall a certain way
when she throws him to the ground.
Because she does... repeatedly.
He takes it just well enough to keep her turned on.

-And even you can see her interest waning
through the thickness of another karaoke Thursday.
Everyone's attracted to confidence, sure,
but no one wants to live with it.

His knees are better at faking youth going up
the stairs than they are heading way, way down.

He can walk into any backroom in town,
shake a hundred pairs of hands,
remember half of their names from last Thursday
and tell anyone who's sober enough
to listen that he's never been happier.

At no point does he laugh and say something
about the way a yawn from her
does more damage than a heavy hitter from the old days,
as they're crossing the street
into a quiet part of town.

But the thought crosses his mind
every time she kisses him and orders a new drink.

Always in that order.

-Of course, she could just be keeping him around
in preparation for the day the bitchy bravado fails her
and she comes crumbling to the cement floor.
He'd make a better witness than
that thing she can't quite feel, but calls 'God'...

He's never seen a candle in a church
that could make his hands tremble
with the fear of possibly getting too close to it.

Faith is something he plans to save for moving day,
and he's surprisingly ready to head out whenever she is.

There's a lot of strange, new people out there,
and some of them might be willing to pay to see him
hang on like an acrobat juggling a sixtieth birthday cake in one hand
and a lovely young assistant smoking a cigar in the other.

She could make new friends, too,
if she were so inclined.

Maybe she will.

-Somewhere there's a pound of her flesh that understands
what he is over what she sees is
... an irrelevant equation.

07/31/2011

Author's Note: Anita Mac is one badass broad, and it was yet again a pleasure to tear down the house with her.

Posted on 07/31/2011
Copyright © 2024 Gabriel Ricard