January 24, 2012
the movies
In the movies, the new lovers would circle the city, arms ropingaround each other’s backs, their stride perfectly even, the tempo
of their conversation lilting like a song, and the audience, hoping
for their own sweet story, would lean from their seats as the glow
of evening descended. Time would stand still when the kiss
finally came, the swish of trees serenading, and even the hot dog vendor
belting from the sidewalk would stop to watch, and be healed. But this
isn’t how it works, the heart intemperate as early spring, bruised and tender
from all the tumult it sustains. Still, the reel plays and we swim in their desire,
fused by want and lit by fire.