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Couples take up more space than just their bodies; couples are more than the sum of their parts. You can’t sit on the same bench as a couple whether there is space about them or no: couples spread out from their mutual edges and laze across the wooden slats in the spare pieces of sun.

I walk through the busy runway and smile as I watch his hands reach for her hands that might, in colder weather, be stuffed deep into pockets. I notice bodies more easily: I see your easy limbs and the lighter fabric which brushes against the skin you know but is not skin that is yours. Lovely couples, I’m sure you notice too.

As my walk opens into the final stage, the benches have emptied but wait still drenched in sun. I sit and click through songs to find one to listen to just one last time. I always say that, I think, as I pull my skirt further up my thighs and flex my legs into the warmth. I peel the short sleeves of my dress over my shoulders and press to listen to the song again. I pull my hair back and tie it in a knot, lifting damp strands from my neck and shoulders. I listen to the song just one last time, shift in my seat and, again, just one last time.


Written by elikafm

June 24, 2010 at 2:02 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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