I wish someone was taking video of my first kiss. It’s like i lose a little of the image quality every time i play it back in my memory, until finally i’m just imagining it. Instead of seeing her face draw close i just imagine us in a pose like any barbie and ken doll can achieve, substituting my idealized picture for what actually happened. Maybe it was awkward instead of artful, but that momentary pause that came with the awkwardness meant everything, and without it i don’t have anything left but the trace left from the words she whispered in my ear. They’re still ringing.
by krisis
[…] and less vivid like a patch of wallpaper that sees too much sun, but the prospect that i’m slowly changing all of my memories to the best representation of how i got how i am rather than what actually made […]