Sunday, May 9

(“A kiss? What does that prove? It's like finding out you can light a stove. It doesn't make you a cook.” --Rock Hudson as Jerry in Lover come Back)

The table is a secret hiding place for Rock and me. When it stormed once, we sat there. And Cary had called in sick (of tight mouthed kissing on screen.) And Clark had passed out on the roof; we could see his black silhouette like a cloud among the other black clouds through the glass and stains. Clark’s hat was floating out on the water as it writhed up and down like a hat-eating machine. We sat together at the storm table as the lights flickered on and off and the cafe and hat bobbed up and down...And he tells me about the first time he ever sat under silver screens and the feeling of linen sheets on your face in a bed that you know isn’t yours and the slippery feeling of remembering your lines and the cotton rock candy that is Doris's hair. And the last time he looked at himself in a puddle and the first time he ever kissed a boy. I move my mouth and sound comes out about riding in grocery carts on gravel and being dragged across Georgia by a golf cart and climbing into a blue easter dress. And tell him that I have nothing to say. And tell him the meaning of love is out there like a moth flying around and about the shape of our veins and the first time I never kissed a boy and the taste of rain sprinkles on your cupcake instead of candy sprinkles.

morgiepoo thinks really deep thoughts @ 1:21 AM

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