11. the man

I see him across the room. He's staring me down, as if he were a cowboy rebel. He's watching me as I walk across the room, swinging my hips and regarding my flirty and sensual air's. He wants me. I walk out and leave him there.

I'm back again the next night, he speaks to me and I lock my eyes with his. I'm breathless, I blush a maddening red and run for the door's, stupid shy girl. He reached his arm out to pull me into him but I'm too fast for him and I get away. I don't understand why.

I'm back in this bar room again.

No, I'm not, it's a vacant apartment in a small town, an unimportant town. He is here and I was waiting for him. He need's to bow his head under the doorway because he's 6' 7".

Now we are alone. I'm not going to say too much about this. He told me I shouldn't and so I won't. All I can say is that we are in love. I don't know if I can bear to feel this way again. Yet there's a déjà vu cloud hanging around my silly head today and it's raining needles of blue ice and it only says that I must. And I will. Love refuses to die.

Our eyes stay locked together. I remember my reply to what he said... "okay."

I was happy for a lifetime already, or this was merely the beginning of my happiness.

* *

Don't bring me fresh flowers for my grave, I want the kind that have been pressed together between heavy pages for year's and year's. After all this time I need to pick this dry flower up and let it crumble like my ashes should've been. Then I will cry again. But no will see but these comforting shadows that cloak me in remembrance and love. My life will go on and there's more to this story. I live again and he's coming back. To another place meant only for us.

First I'm reminded here to tell earlier part's and different versions of the younger tale, it's spun in gold bronzy thread's of hair. A long spinning hair that is dizzyingly captivating.

Hold yourselves close.