Wednesday, August 22, 2007


“I can’t breathe!” I tried to shout, my voice muffled as she sat directly on my face.
“Breathing is overrated” I thought I heard her say.
I had challenged her to a wrestling match, and I was determined to let her win. So far, she didn’t realize that her victory was planned.
I was having a good time, rolling around the living room floor with my girl. She wasn’t beautiful, but I thought that she was cute. She had uneven teeth, splotchy skin, and her hair was in transition from black to hr natural blonde.
She wasn’t a model, and never could be. But I thought that she was cinematic. If I made movies, I’d put her op on the movie screen so the world could see all the beauty in her imperfections.
She pulled the pillow from my face, and breathing heavily from the tussle, leaned in to kiss me.
I pushed her face away playfully.
She took my hands and pinned them down, then leaned in again.
We kissed.
I couldn’t help but ruin the moment by trying to say something romantic.



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