Sweating From My Fingertips
Words:469
Summary: It was a full day, from one side of the island to the next.
Notes: This is actually a journal entry, but I liked the way I wrote it.
Shaking and sweating
Tasting and running
I've got my daddy's car and a full tank and a day to burn it.
So I take the trip I've always been meaning to take and drop off a C.C Lemon
I half expected him to be in the racquetball court and that's exactly where I found him, kicking a ball around.
He looked at me, kicked the ball a couple more times, flipped his thick hair back and met me at the door.
"I figured that since you were working out, you might want a C.C. Lemon"
"How did you know I was working out?"
"I just know"
"how did you know I love C.C. Lemon?"
"Christian, I just know these things."
(He forgets that he once told me he is often in the racquetball court and that I once saw C. C. Lemon written in his journal. He forgets we used to hang out a lot, and that I hold all of his words and actions inside of me)
"I probably smell like shit, but you smell good. (He smelled me just by walking by me. My heart fluttered). "And you are getting some sun, it looks good." (Does he remember when he teased me for being "white as fuck", the same night he layed on top of me in his car until 5am and admired my bones?)
"You smell good too"
"Huh? I do?"
"Yeah, you smell like your cigarettes"
[My favorite scent in the world
But I wouldn't stay long, and Ron and I drove to Kokusai street [A real touristy street, about a mile long, full of little gift shops] to meet an old Hawaii friend.
I was wearing a sundress and a bathing suit.
Walking in the road of Kokusai, I thought to myself that I have never looked as beautiful, confident, and mysterious as i did then. And that I should probably get some more sundresses.
My appearance begged to be known, but my body language refused.
Sweat dripping down my cleavage, breathing heavy, loving the way the sun felt, the heat felt, the street felt.
And I never found the friend and decided to leave.
I am a human being, I am alive, I am my own, I sweat, I smoke, I drink iced coffee from a carton and drive up and down this island. I belong to me, I belong to this island.
At the beach, I said "I just want the ocean to consume me!" and tore off my dress and traded body salt for sea salt.
I found thin, rib-boasting, under developed Japanese middle school boys jumping off the sea wall. They invited me to jump off, they cheered me on, they spoke in such casual Japanese, I couldn't understand anything they said, but I could understand "jump".
And I did.
Summary: It was a full day, from one side of the island to the next.
Notes: This is actually a journal entry, but I liked the way I wrote it.
Shaking and sweating
Tasting and running
I've got my daddy's car and a full tank and a day to burn it.
So I take the trip I've always been meaning to take and drop off a C.C Lemon
I half expected him to be in the racquetball court and that's exactly where I found him, kicking a ball around.
He looked at me, kicked the ball a couple more times, flipped his thick hair back and met me at the door.
"I figured that since you were working out, you might want a C.C. Lemon"
"How did you know I was working out?"
"I just know"
"how did you know I love C.C. Lemon?"
"Christian, I just know these things."
(He forgets that he once told me he is often in the racquetball court and that I once saw C. C. Lemon written in his journal. He forgets we used to hang out a lot, and that I hold all of his words and actions inside of me)
"I probably smell like shit, but you smell good. (He smelled me just by walking by me. My heart fluttered). "And you are getting some sun, it looks good." (Does he remember when he teased me for being "white as fuck", the same night he layed on top of me in his car until 5am and admired my bones?)
"You smell good too"
"Huh? I do?"
"Yeah, you smell like your cigarettes"
[My favorite scent in the world
But I wouldn't stay long, and Ron and I drove to Kokusai street [A real touristy street, about a mile long, full of little gift shops] to meet an old Hawaii friend.
I was wearing a sundress and a bathing suit.
Walking in the road of Kokusai, I thought to myself that I have never looked as beautiful, confident, and mysterious as i did then. And that I should probably get some more sundresses.
My appearance begged to be known, but my body language refused.
Sweat dripping down my cleavage, breathing heavy, loving the way the sun felt, the heat felt, the street felt.
And I never found the friend and decided to leave.
I am a human being, I am alive, I am my own, I sweat, I smoke, I drink iced coffee from a carton and drive up and down this island. I belong to me, I belong to this island.
At the beach, I said "I just want the ocean to consume me!" and tore off my dress and traded body salt for sea salt.
I found thin, rib-boasting, under developed Japanese middle school boys jumping off the sea wall. They invited me to jump off, they cheered me on, they spoke in such casual Japanese, I couldn't understand anything they said, but I could understand "jump".
And I did.