By Star of David
Date: 2010 Mar 04
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The Coke Act

A dirty canteen. About 60 bottles of coke. Over three months. And three women. One of them was me.
I remember the things you did with love, those tender little acts that stayed in my memory ever since those days 13 years ago.
We’d have a coke each during the break every day. You’d take the bottle, bend the straw and place your thumb over the mouth, shake it, spray some out until the coke was ‘flat’ and give me the bottle. I’d drink it with that straw still bent, straight from the bottle, placing my lips where your thumb used to be.
People around us used to watch the love that was so evident; always asking when we were getting married and how long we’d been together, and imitating us. We shone. You know we simply shone.
And after all these years, I still can’t bring myself to drink a bottle of coke. It hurts. Sometimes I take a sip or two to test myself and always grimace. It still hurts.
Because, even then, there were another two. But I fell for the coke act every single time. At least 60 times over.
I still would.

(March 2010)