Please come over. he says it so gently.


We talk books and you cannot make us stop. I bring my bag of games and toys but it does not even get opened, are you kidding, we have not talked about all the books yet. We trade a read for a read, Well ok I will read your Bret Easton Ellis and I will raise you one Gary Paulsen. Ok deal.

a guitar is easy in his hands / so is an airplane / so is a pen. He wants to look for arrowheads with me. He writes it down.

Heavy-lidded eyes that only explain all their creases in a smile, which is often. wonderful Greek eyebrows, three times the size of mine, I want to pet them with my thumbs. Wavy hair all on end and I want to put my hands there too. He is a good magnet but I stay on my end of the couch. I will drive home and still not be out of range.

At the end, gentle again, fingers on my arm, You are always welcome here.   He offers to carry my bag to my car and, frightened, I don't let him.   I leave him standing jacketless in his front yard, cold hands in pockets, openly watching me go. So far, not trying to hide anything.

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