Wednesday, December 06, 2006

something to write with...

as she lay quietly on her side gazing at his back she knew. she knew that someday the scatter of pale brown freckles across his shoulders would grow to annoy her. that someday they would no longer seem precious to her and would serve only as a painful reminder that they had been doomed from the beginning.

1 Comments:

Anonymous jephary@mac.com said...

After running across this page on a lyric search I was struck by this brief but telling note. This is THE moment isn't it? This is when it all turns.

It made me recall an old lover. Her face was beautiful it was true, but over the time we were together I realized just how symmetrical it was, how simple, without character or the ability to provide a wide range of emotions. I suddenly saw one day that it would never change, that I was beginning to feel that looking at her would become more and more intolerable. I had visions of being very old and terrified of looking at that unchanging face, unaltered in its habits even with extreme age. It was insufferable.

Years later I would have a brief affair with a woman whose face was almost fractured in its asymmetry; a mouth that was lifted high on one side by some unseen pulley of muscles into what at first looked like a scowl, but might also be a saracastic sneer. If she smiled, even a little bit, it became a wonderous conspirational grin that brought you into her, made it impossible not to be concerned with if not share her emotions. She was not pretty, in fact, she verged on the unnattractive. But she expressed everything. Her face could show the most intense pain, concern, bordem. You had to know her to appreacite her version of happy. And the first time I saw desire flush across her face I was stunned by its absolute lack of politeness or coyness or camp. In these ways she was the most enjoyable woman I have ever been close to.

December 27, 2006 8:21 PM  

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