Monday, November 24, 2008

Window of Oppurtunity

If he didn't hold her right then,
she would change her mind.
She told him that it wouldn’t be right and the little window of opportunity
closed suddenly, like the first frost. All the sleeping and the leaning and nudging and shaking and rubbing and breaking would only bring him down. She was just not his type. She spent hours upon hours talking in code with him and all the running in the rain was really good. Good and nice even. She didn't remember the last time she let rain run on her face hard. All the laughing and telling secrets with hushed tones and everything was one degree less then perfect, but honestly she knew she shouldn’t keep him. It was obvious that he loved her with this love that comes around and stays when she is cramping and when she is under her covers or when she has toothpaste foaming at her lips in front of the bathroom mirror. As she watched her gray eyes as she brushed her teeth she just couldn’t see him next to her with his toothbrush and messy night time hair. She just wouldn’t have it because she knew that he would follow her to the lowest place she would crawl, and she would crawl quite low and he would call to check up and just say hello. “Why what are you doing way down there, peach?” She was not his peach, not his field. She would talk until she forgot what she was saying, what she was even meaning but he would still sit with his chin on his palm. She knew men like him before, yes she knew their number. Non-smokers that were never fired from a job with gentle souls that believed deep down that they could find her. When honestly it wasn’t her they were searching for; just another soul to clean up and take care of. She had once known their gentle hands that talked like snow and eyes that were never tired, ever. Too kind, too soft, too good. No, no she was not good for him. No, no not at all.

HerStory Head Editor,

Note: I like this piece of writing, though I am a slightly biased since it's my own. Why I like it coupled with the video and picture is that it celebrates women in all forms, through all days, at all hours, not just during the pretty and powerful times. And that is the heart of HerStory.

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