By Scott / Scott27CA@AOL.COM
Date: 7 November 1998

Her Lips

Walking down the street last week, Kristen turned and abruptly asked me,
"So what's the one thing you miss the most about her?"
Stunned and trying not to choke on my words, I answered calmly, "Her lips."

"Really? I mean, not her smile, her laugh, the way she makes you feel?"
She just eyed me incredulously, waiting for an appropriate response.
I shook my head and kept quiet until we arrived at the store,
staring at my shoes as I walked.

"Yeah, more than anything, I miss her lips," I said apprehensively,
as she scanned the frozen food section for Gardenburgers.
"I don't know why, but it was almost like our lips were made
especially for each other. She didn't need any collagen or anything else
to improve them. They were just so expressive, so much like mine...."

I nervously glanced up to catch her expression.
She simply grinned ruefully, nodded slightly
and headed to the check-out line.
I was puzzled but tried not to let her see it.

Kristen tortured me with a rare gap of silence
as we strolled back down Seventh Street together.
If there was one thing I could count on, it was her skill
at changing the subject whenever our conversation turned awkward.

"OK, so I can't stop thinking about her," I finally blurted out.
"Why can't I stop thinking about her? It's almost as if…"

"It's all good, Scottie," she interrupted, looking directly into my eyes.
"Maybe it's because she keeps thinking about you, too."
And that’s when I saw the faintest smile flicker across her face
as she turned to unlock the deadbolt to her apartment.