Remember what I told you on the way back from the bookstore?
I want to remember, but I don’t.
You don’t? I wrote it down after I watched you from across the room. There she is, and I’ll be dead soon.
What are you going to do with that line, besides use it for a poem?
I don’t know. Sometimes I wish I could choose falling in love with you.
Why don’t you?
Maybe I can. You are so joyful. A goddess. I just wonder what would happen to us over time. I would never want us to end up like everybody else.
How kind of you to flatter me as you reject me.
Remind me again why I have to choose?
Because you’ll be dead soon.
Photo Source: Hamed Masoumi
© 2012 Vanessa Blakeslee. All rights reserved.