Friday, January 28, 2011

Last Kiss.

Last Kiss.

The last kiss. You remember your first kiss. You remember every memorable moment that included a kiss. And you no matter how hard you try you never forget the last kiss. That’s the one thing about the last one. You don’t know it’s going to be the last until its come and gone.

“Kiss me,” He tells me. “Hold me for a little while.” And my hands find comfort holding his body against mine. The shivers beneath his thin jacket are less intense within my grip. The thick wetness of his blood coats his shirt and climbs up toward me. Ignoring the death reaching up my arm, climbing onto me I lean in to kiss his trembling lips. He shivers beneath my touch and I wonder about the last kiss.

The last time I kissed him it was after dinner in the 5 o’clock hour on the corner of 10th and I street before we walked back to the car. It wasn’t supposed to be the last time but somehow it was. There weren’t any lights on yet and the color of the air was grey. It was that electric haze of smoke that surrounded us. I looked into his eye and he leaned down and kissed me. Both his arms wrap securely around and envelop me. It was the only time that everything felt right. And then it was over. The lights jumped on. The orange hue smears against the grey. And we kept walking to the car.

I can remember reaching the car but not how it happened. We couldn’t have been driving for long when it happened. I never look away from the road the way he must have when it happened. Then came the sound when it happened.

The sound of his scream and the look in his eyes sent me spinning. When it happened the car must have rolled three times before stopping. I couldn’t find him at first. And he was far. Although it really wasn’t that far away. But it was far enough for me to be safe and him to be there. Then I knew. Like a memory that wasn’t real but it had to be true. I had been set free in the fall. His arm pushed me free. Free from embrace. Spinning away.

The warmth of his skin feels like home against mine while we embrace in the cold darkness. I can almost ignore the metallic smell of death upon the air while we’re locked in this moment. When he breaks free from the moment he tells me “I think I’m feeling better,” with a broken smile. And although I want to look around at the twisted metal I can’t break free from his eyes. He’s pinned beneath the steel engine I want to tell him that I love him and that it will be alright. A lie that feels less like a lie because I believe it.

I tell him that there’s no help coming. He tells me not to go. No. There’s twenty-six letters in the alphabet and he only chooses two before re-emphasizing the same point with four. STAY. Four that make me wonder if he’s thinking that this might be our last moment together. A moment where I’m holding him and he’s hanging onto me.

And I’m leaning in to kiss him once again I can feel the last breathe escape toward me as his touch lessens. The pressure of his lips no longer matches my own and I’m facing the look in his eye to find it’s gone. There’s nothing. That my kiss has come and gone until there’s nothing left of him.

The last kiss. The first you never forget. This is true. But think about last one you ever had with someone. Do you remember that one? Or does it become meaningless fodder that is just easily disregarded? Are we truly only sentimental when things are going great? Each kiss no less significant than another. An insignificant kiss sounds pretty sad. As every kiss should be like an original story with no detail less important than the last.  Anyway, have a great evening, morning or afternoon at 2am. enjoy. kisses. m.

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