Thread: 8:42 a.m.

you rolled over, got up and left the room when you were finished. i expected this but some part of it disgusted me. i looked around for things to hide, unnoticed the night before when we stumbled in falling into each other warm and anxious full of electricity and cheap red wine and poorly mixed drinks -- things you would remember and take home with you and put on the list i knew you were making. i kicked a dirty sock under my bed, hoped i wouldn't forget it, brushed my hair and went back to where i had been so you wouldn't know i had cared enough to move. an eternity later (really, what were you doing in there?) you walked back in sat down sweating wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, your knuckle meeting your finger at a spot i had never noticed but seemed slightly crooked and ugly and unnatural. hunched over, hands on knees you finally looked down at me. i smiled and rubbed hard but soft the spot between your shoulder blades -- ouch! but not on the spine -- because that is what you wanted and what i wanted to believe i wanted. we had been on fire. uncurling my body i stretched out almost diagonal -- but not quite -- and leaned against the wall. there was enough room but i knew how to lie to look better for you. long arched taut hiding the scar on my stomach that you traced with your finger even though it made me cringe. 'it is beautiful' you said. 'it is what makes you beautiful' you said. but the wall was cold and i got goose bumps and scratchy legs. you were quiet and indifferent and i wanted you to be asleep but you weren't. silence that used to be comfortable was noosed between us -- silence what are we doing silence what are you thinking silence silence pounding driving me insane -- but i had nothing to say to you. we made plans, you tried to make a joke said you'd call i thought about it but didn't walk you out. it was cold and i was glad. i stayed in bed for almost two hours naked curled in a ball awake alone wanting you to come back wondering if this was the filling of a void or the beginning of one.

It wore me out, short as it is, just to get through it. It's reads like the longest run on sentence I have ever read.

Seemed more like a stream of thoughts than a non-fiction piece..