LJ Idol 10: Week 3: Brushback pitch
The Begining of The End,
or It's All Just a Matter of Time
1am
The words trip over her tongue.
They wash out into the space between them
Hitting her target slightly left of the center.
She’s smiling;
Blowing hot air over her fingernails
and buffing them on her lapel.
It’s a brush-back pitch,
A challenge,
A dare,
A psych out,
She’s redefining their boundaries.
2am
She’s bored and he’s -
Well, not defenseless after all apparently,
but they’ve kept their hands to themselves.
The pain lies (so many lies) in the dust particles
floating on the sound waves
contextualized between them.
She was drawn to him because of this.
A shared history of idle threats.
Because he kindled the fire of her passion,
Because he liked her purple prose;
And kept his own quill sharpened.
3am
He is the black knight
riding across the desert.
She is the sorceress; no, not yet the dragon.
She is not breathing fire but blowing smoke
against the limits of his conviction.
She's still waiting to see
if he’ll sit this one out,
Take a bye,
Call it a draw.
Or, step up to the plate,
Pick up the dropped glove,
Take ten paces and turn.
4am
They both know all the right
buttons to push,
strings to pull,
words to hurl; loaded into slingshots
Constructed out of circular arguments.
Their vows spoken backwards;
A spell,
A trick,
A promise.
Abracadabra!
Alakazam!
The sound of a needle skipped on a vinyl record.
The words trip over her tongue.
She is still smiling when he finally swings.
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AN: I guess I have a thing for even numbers so this one is 250 words