9:44 PM, Merlot
Monday, June 21, 2010
Waiting could never be more dramatic.i waited opposite the bridge, images running wild in my head.
i had gotten away from the hustle and bustle of the world.
now i was just waiting for you to knock off from work.
i sat in utter darkness, with pouring rain, a glass of merlot,
burning cigarette, and tears.
tears which i licked away, the moment you appeared.
i watched the cigarette burn to ashes, watched the
smoke curl into the air and disappear.
how very rejuvenating.
then i bent my head and got to work as i waited for you to finish yours.
but more than once, the moment was broken.
a girl walked over with a swagger, asked to borrow my lighter.
i said if i refused, what would you do.
and she gave me this face, so puppyish, that i had to oblige.
she lighted her cigarette, tugged on her tight jeans, and eyed me and
my little notepad curiously.
for the next hour, i must have looked like a lighter-borrower.
hi, could i possibly borrow your...? excuse me, can i...?
in the end, you arrived- faster than i had expected.
with all the interruptions,
and with loud music being played suddenly in the background,
i wrote only half a page of nonsense.
Half a fucking page of nonsense.
And that, was how i spent my Saturday night.
