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The Rialto
For the first time
Become aware of appearances
Need to be more aware of appearances
Appearances matter
Stared down through the blue movie screen light
At our hands
His all pale and mine
All dark
This is a weird scene
To be my grabbing hand
Clutching my fingers
Not touching my palm
Or rubbing it
Guys who know what they’re doing
His hand wrapped around four of my fingers
And my thumb was just hanging out
It wasn’t part of my hand
Rubbed my palm with two of his fingers
Like the most important thing in the world
Was the palm of my hand
Held my hand
We were no longer simply us
Lips I hate breaking into a smile
Palm on face
Then on neck
Then on and on
Leaned into each other
Toe to hip to shoulder to lip
Our hands in our pockets
Feel my heart move against my chest
Don’t feel good
Clutch stomach
Twist uncomfortably
No comfortable position for this
Hand feels cool against forehead
Don’t ever move your hand
Break into a thousand pieces
Close eyes
Closing them at many things
Eyes go wide
Questioning stare
Shrugs
Shaking head at
Looks away
And nods
Nods and asks
So much more behind nod
Head moves like that
Fluid, up and down
Again and again
Wipes hands on jeans
Presses them against face
Warm and soft
Will miss hands
And smoky breath and eyes
By nine o’clock
Sitting on steps
By ten
Standing in the doorway
Ringing the bell
All of her looked different to me
To be as burdened by beauty as she is.
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