my lipgloss is poppin

“I am not that kind of girl.” I whispered brushing my lips against his cheek.  I leaned in so close I could practically taste the mint gum he always loved to chew. Picking my rumpled vintage velvet purse off of the counter I dug about for my lip gloss a standard avoidance maneuver D could clearly read.  We knew each other well enough.
“And what kind of girl that?” He would ask, snapping his gum.
A sign of nervousness that I recognized clearly. I let the silence grow, I wanted him to feel more than the pricks and bites that tickled up and down his arms when I grabbed his fingers.  I wanted more than the standard lust/love reaction.
“The kind of girl that kisses a Boy-Face in public.” I shifted in my seat letting my knee brush his.
“Don’t kiss me then. I won’t mind.”
Lair.

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September 6, 2007. dating, love, memory.

One Comment

  1. j'son replied:

    yeah he lied!

    great pic too on ur first post
    js

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