i knew what was coming, weeks in advance.
i knew.
i was prepared.
but still…
could.not.breathe.
palm flat on chest –
heart still beating, thankfully.
cheeks flushed.
Staring.
he did that thing, that thing with his hand.
Staring.
he did that thing, that thing against the wall.
Staring.
he did that thing, that thing with the magazine.
(and you know, i liked the hair.)
two minutes, nine seconds.
five times,
had to remind myself to breathe.
once every-almost-26-seconds.
me, “the biggest skeptic of us all,”
reduced to incoherent babbling,
pathetic whimpers,
blank stares.
dear god, I will never live this down.
but, I guess,
that’s the way lust goes.
2001-03-14