Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Shell Shock.

Listening to New Order always makes me remember a time when kissing was everything.I can't explain it. It sounds like a tongue kiss.
Like a phone call.
Like a stomach flipping crush. Like hot air after winter.
Those Saturday afternoon Underground discos, when all my friends would make out and I would stand in the dark in pointy shoes and black clothes my sister would have sent me out in.
Too short to kiss. Too shy to try.
And then, a girl, a goth, a memory, who I don't know, what colour hair, I don't care, She found me and we sat in a corner, sixteen years old, and it was all so...wet and open and not about Love.

Hold on. It's never enough...

1 comment:

  1. When kissing was everything. I love it. I miss those days. This is the second time I have thought about the nostalgia of kissing this week. Which is sad in it's own way.

    This is the poem that came my way yesterday:

    I Am Determined

    One regret, dear world,
    That I am determined not to have
    When I am lying on my deathbed
    Is that
    I did not kiss you enough.

    --- Hafiz

    Melba xxx

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