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It's a strange feeling when your memories come spinning back at you like a sucker punch out of rightfield. The temperature changes to 60 degrees and suddenly you're a five year old in a parking lot in Indiana at night, leaving a dinner from your parents' friends' house, surrounded by your family back when you were young, and all your roles were different. A few degrees more and you're tossed back to the streets of Bombay- walking around outside your grandparents' apartment, although they don't live there anymore. Wait a minute, what? is that your face in the stars? Why is it that my memories of anything always bring back memories of you? I have to stop staring at the stars. *** A shooting star and I'm lying next to you at the beach again, your smile so soft against the palette of your cheeks. I want to hold you in my arms although I dare not, fearful of meddling with what friendship you and I share, Yet Three months later I'm leaning over your face- trembling with trepidation at the possibilities that could come from this. The most beautiful soul that I have ever held, with my lips leaning down to yours- for a kiss. our lips touch, and a supernova explodes, Bang. And I'm biking down the road again, at night, with hot tears stinging my cheeks, No longer in the fantasy, reeled back into reality, It never lasts. |