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Light
| Passions in Prose |
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Light |
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Spot Junior Member
since 2006-03-04
Posts 45CA, US |
Light Our first kiss was clouded and tasted of make-up, on a day all about thick powdered cover-up and making do with sun in your eyes for as many cameras as possible. She had on a light, almost shiny gloss to my melted chap stick, and even though the flavor in hers was as subtle as the tint I could taste it the rest of the day, and I could see my heavy balm weighing her down even after she stopped looking my way. Neither of us is really into artificiality but it’s surprising the exceptions you’ll make when a picture could be how you are remembered. Her hair was copper, and as hot as metal from standing in the sun so long. It burned my fingers when I ran my hands through it, but her mouth on mine stopped my normal overreaction and the laugh that would have followed. I pulled her back against me and leaned into the shade, but by then there was enough heat around us that it didn’t matter anyway. She brushed a drop of sweat away from my eye and I felt some of the heavy black mascara smear with it. I could make her an ocean in my mind, put her eyes all the way down in the depths my nature will never let me see, and feel sand in the subtle roughness of her hands. But there’s nothing here to match her hair, like fire or a lion’s mane, and it turns out nothing can compete with the vastness of the water, except maybe the emptiness we were trying to fill. I thought that kiss would make us real, but I didn’t understand the effect it would have on us after the lights got turned down. The vacant spaces filled with secrets and insecurities, so now I use her to keep me from smiling too often. We only kiss in the dark now, so the blue of her eyes doesn’t find mine, and soft lotion makes her hands slip away when I try to hold them. Her hair can’t burn without the sun and I count on that to keep me cold. This way I can move through everything else unscathed- but still hurting, still unfilled; in touch and not irrelevant. I asked her to keep me real, but there at the beach I thought real meant smiling without cameras to impress, not knowing how to keep your lips tight enough to not smile at all. I only touch her now after I double-check the lock on the door; I would’ve let anyone see, smiling and pinned between her and that palm tree, and not worried if they thought my hands on her back or my face in her hair meant I was naïve. I can’t sleep when she’s next to me now, but I would’ve kept my eyes closed forever, if I’d know reality liked the dark and wouldn’t stand to be content, or mine. ...it's always sudden... |
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*wishfull*thinking* Junior Member
since 2006-09-03
Posts 33north east of england |
i thought it was really good.... i liked it, shame no-one commented on it so soon i thought it was good!! anyways keep up the good work and i hope to read more ... dani x I'm miles from where you are, |
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PEBBLES Member
since 2006-10-30
Posts 69South Australia, Australia |
I enjoyed this very much. More please. Thank's Helen. |
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jo_kritickisto Junior Member
since 2006-08-17
Posts 15 |
Spot: Only fair I come over here and ask you a bunch of questions too  I wonder about the mascara rubbing off during the kissing. Is that meant to be symbolic of removing the facade of photography you describe in the beginning? You end with the mascara smeared, the lights off, no one to see, and thus no one to care. But the alternative is everyone to see, the characters polished, attractive, prepared, and ultimately fake. Is this the crux of what you're getting at? Damned if you do, damned if you don't? If so, maybe no one caring about what you and the girl do in the dark is a strength? The third paragraph is a bit sloppy. It is such a turning point and it needs to be strong. Weak knees make for very painful walking. |
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Spot Junior Member
since 2006-03-04
Posts 45CA, US |
wishufull*thinking- thanks, I'm glad you liked it Pebbles- thanks for reading, replies are always nice to get. Jo- Guess it is only fair, haha. You are very right about the mascara. You are also right about the damned if you do, damned if you don't thing, but what I was trying to get at was that everyone associates happy with fake, or in this light with fake. It might be because I'm still in high school but everyone I know seems to think that people who are happy, or don't have secrets are lying or fake, or not worthwhile. It didn't come through as much as I meant it to. So then people not caring about what we do would be a strength, but the girl would, in this story, feel that we wouldn't be "real" anymore if we were actually happy. If that makes sense. Do you have any suggestions for the third? I know it really doesn't fit in with the piece, I wrote up to there and then set it aside for a few months andjust recently finished it. |
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