another story

maybe it had to be this way. maybe we had to burn up, just to keep alive.

I kept hoping these past two years we might explode into a thousand hot stars. Colorful, shooting off all over the place.

But now, i say- (i'm looking out the slender window onto playing fields, a shopping mall, an intersection with a long red light I would run every night on the way to his house) but now, he's the only one shooting off, into another girl.

Oh please- my professor has his hands raised over his head, a linguistic referee. don't get into sex, you are so not ready to write about sex.

Well. Sez i.

But out of curiosity- is anyone shooting stars into you these days?

Well.- just now i should have a cigarette burning between my fingers to put between my lips, to quiet myself. That's another story. That's a seperate story entirely.