I can remember exactly how you grabbed at my side when I finished your sentence and when you started mine. Your vocal chords struck my heart when you spoke with that golden tongue of yours. I remember when I became envious of the cigarette between your lips, when I wanted to be right there.

(It took what felt like a few hundred lightyears for the bad air to clear out of here. What happened to it?)

That grab you did at my side —the flick is stuck on repeat. You leaned over to your left, your head tossed itself down towards the concrete, that gorgeous laugh flapped it’s wings and flew out of your lungs and that’s when that magical grab happened. My flesh was between all five of your fingers for only about four or five seconds– but that is four or five seconds more than I have been touched. I think your beautiful, yet ragged claws forced my skin to scab where your fingers were– just as a reminder.

Every feeling I had for weeks just melted away. You made me new but all this extra energy is just burning new blood.

(I’ve told plenty of lies in my day but believe me when I say this actually happened. She helped me forget about you, even if it was only for a few moments. I even brought you up in our conversation but if it wasn’t for that slight grab, you would have been the topic of the hour.)

I think your beautiful, yet ragged claws forced my skin to scab where your fingers were —just as a reminder.