There was a kiss.
I was having visions before the cheap pasta settled in.
I never knew how cruel his face could look. Cheeks red with venom, and hazel eyes that made ponds quiver. I bet he was seaweed at some point. Dried up and sold at health food markets, or places that mirror him. I already had tears tipsy on my eyelids, he was just drawing some liquor. This is when humor hits, I wanted to tell him I love him. Instead, I swung my bike lock up like a horseshoe wishing for luck. I thought he’d ask me to stay, cruel never battered me so sweet.
I was having visions before the cheap pasta settled in. Before cheap pasta, I knocked on his door. Before the door, there was a kiss. Before the kiss, there was me. Prominent in us. So striking we are, and how we also like to be struck down. I wanted to see him—bad, I was preheating our fun. We’re set in our lopsided standards. What do we get for being newfound strangers?
I made a bet with myself. To…