Keep Art Alive :: Art by Joshua Petker
like a pillow
she won’t care
Her lips were softer than mine, smaller, pursed when she looked at me, budding like a rose. There were subtleties between us, stolen glances and half-hidden suggestions. I wrote about her in a composition book that I took with me everywhere that unseasonably cool July. It was months later that she admitted, in a fight no less, that she used to read it nervously in the backroom, glancing up at the monitor every other word, making sure I was busy with customers.
We sat with our feet in the gutter, between two parked cars. The rest of everyone left inside drinking, music playing loudly, we could hear it clearly from out there in the street. She talked on and on, chasing words into circles around us both, the…
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