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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1663069-The-first-day
Rated: E · Essay · Relationship · #1663069
Just an essai. A try. Long Island love story. The format is screwed up, though.
It was the way you walked.  Or fell.
         The show at that nowhere place and the
         band just yelled at us for two hours.  It got dark.
         You stood still.  We did not touch.  Too loud to talk.
         youre beautiful even in the dim light of this hell you know that?  Dark Blue you wore it was always you in that dark blue and quiet nervous just going for a trip to the mall and it was you just beautiful and breathtaking the light came from you the white clean of consumerism glinted from you and Dark Blue
  We wandered to the basement of Roosevelt Field and assumed mannequin roles on the glass.  We played hackysack- you stood aside and chatted with your girls and pretended to ignore us.
      that day brought us here two months ago remember? My cousin drove me to get here out in nowhere away from everything the trash heaps or mounds outside all around
                    You fell when we were leaving the place.  The sky was starless but I followed you.
         We laughed and step-step- echoed from the heaps around us.  Now what do we do? that music was bad what an idea that was seeing you is enough Dark Blue i'd lose you in the dark my North Star guiding light angel of darkness
  Then you were on the ground.  On your back.  A victim of the black-ice; winter is a cruel mistress and always made you such a fool.  Never could trust that winter.  You mouthed something as you lay on your back; hair splayed like brown rays on the tar.
  You laughed and then I knew I could, too, but we both knew how much it hurt and oh wow youre embarrassed? you fell right in front of me but its okay i wont hold it against you even if i one day i do something embarrassing here take my hand were touching and my heart does something unfamiliar and im holding you and two hands touching North Star guide me from here because i am truly lost
© Copyright 2010 Henry Weatherall (shrouud at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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