|
She pulls another name, this time from the dead, and turns to me in that way that parents do so you feel embarrassed or ashamed of something. Romantic? she says, reading the name out loud, slowly, so I am aware of each syllable, each vowel wrapping around the bones like new muscle, the sound of that person’s body and how reckless it is, how careless that his name is in one pile and not the other.
- - -
I had a moment yesterday, listening to a song, and I couldn't figure out why the song struck such a chord in me until it dawned on me that Mad and I have not, in fact, always been together. It seemed strange and suddenly painful to realize that he hasn't always been a part of me. Feels like it tho. I am grateful for it. <3
|