he was small & quick of action and wit. a porn collection famous amongst all who saw it. we were fourteen. I saw it.
despite or because of that, we would hold hands on the school bus and shyly look into each others eyes. his mum was lovely and somehow had no idea, a bit simple.
but he had traveled a lot, a boxing champion, and knew more than most his age, but when I saw him last he’d fallen; a small town, football team, thick-necked drinker.
not to judge. I am a fallen, small-city, rock n roll hedonist with no prospects either. we’ve just gone our separate ways.
and thank god for that...
makes me wonder about these totally absorbing, but later fleeting, obsessions, lusts and loves. I’ve been molded and melded, led & misled by both lasting & passing attractions.
crushes, I have them come and go like postmen, others stay forever.
you too, I know.
I just wish I’d be better at choosing directions. the girl with the predatory stare (she pins me to my chair)... the wounded young boy (makes me blush speechless)... the cocky prick (brings out the smart bitch)...
why do it again?
to want, and make and lose a friend...
... told you i was moody.