speaking the words i’d heard in my head
he said
in a language once familiar:
we can’t just…
casually pretend to collect our things
without realizing
we can’t keep slowly creeping towards
faded perfection
the words are a weight
because i know them true;
cross luck off my list
closure came right through my window
& i found myself thanking the sky quietly how i
was able to experience what i could
before i gave it away.
follow me, i have to show you something, he had said, and he meant to grab her hand but he hadn’t found the confidence in time, so he just pushed his head in the direction he meant to go & began walking. there was no question for her, she would go: trying to focus on her foot falls to balance out her heart beats. she didn’t know where they were going, but she didn’t care; all that mattered in her world was him, & the idea he had something for her was nearly as exciting as the secret itself. by the time they reached the field she’d nearly forgotten that she was walking — it felt almost as if she was electric, following him by some magic she couldn’t explain — maybe magnets. it would explain the buzzing in my veins, she thought matter-of-factually & was content with that thought.
his clumsy steps tore through the tall grass, pushing down the long blades as if they were jilted lovers, creating a perfect path for her to follow. it wasn’t intentional, but he liked it: for a minute he imagined they were traversing through a dangerous jungle & he was keeping her from harm. he didn’t dare to turn around to see her, although her small creaking grass steps behind him confirmed she was still there. he had only been to where he was going once before & even then, it was completely by accident: reading a backwards map with the help of a broken compass. he considered it to be one of those perfect coincidences, & as soon as he arrived he knew he had to show her: something about the place just screamed out for her. suddenly he felt silly, perhaps she wouldn’t find the view as tugging as he did? earlier when he convinced himself to take her he was nearly certain of it’s perfection; he’d even rehearsed the lines he’s use when they arrived. it’s just around the corner now, he’d say, & he’d take her hand gently under the guise of surprise. close your eyes, he’d say, & he’d step behind her to place his hands on her shoulders. he’d imagined it so many times he could almost smell her, almost feel her thin shoulders under his fingertips. but now, not so sure: what if she laughed? what if she thought it was lame to walk for miles through dusty tall grass just for this place? for a moment he was certain he’d made a huge mistake. he briefly considered leading her to that big rock he had found, the one discovered while he was chasing birds with his first camera, the one that stood taller than his head–
“where are we going?” her voice sounded like a song, cutting suddenly through the air between them & startling him alive.
“it– it’s a sec–a surprise!” he stuttered, stumbling over his words & immediately feeling idiotic. why were the words he rehearsed so many nights before disappearing from his mind with every step? a little smile sneaked across her lips even though she tried desperately to drown it. not that he could see it, anyway; it was nearing dusk & he was still two steps in front of her, but she still worried he’d get the wrong impression. she found his nervousness cute; the way he tripped over his with words & was crackly with his voice sometimes — it was the only way she could convince herself he liked her, since he treated her like a friend in all the other times. she hadn’t expected an answer to her question so she didn’t respond with anything other than the crunch, crunch, crunch of foot falls on dry grass. they were entering the woods a little bit, now; the spattering of trees mixed with bush & a chill raced up her arms. for a moment she regretted not grabbing her coat — but at the time she wouldn’t dare risk him changing his mind on taking her here, so she had persevered without it. she wiped a mosquito off her arm & quickened her step — the towering pines obscured the moonlight for a minute & she felt safer closest to him.
dancingindarkrooms 