Caught in some dark hallway; all hard bricks and twilit shadows. She pinned me to the wall and I could feel the weight of her against me: Belly to belly.
She looked at me in that funny way; the way you look at a stranger or maybe an old friend that you haven’t seen in years and maybe you don’t recall their name or the precise circumstances of your last meeting.
She leaned in and kissed me hard on the lips, her hands tugging the sides of my head back and crushing me along the bricks.
I could taste a mouthful of danger; the bitter tinge of spent whiskey on her lips and the stale remnant of regret on her breath. She tried to swallow me alive.
My hands moved of their own accord, seeking out the places they wanted to go; testing the cartography of her body and running over the smooth surface of her skin and plying the subtle hills and valleys of her curves in the near dark.
It was all white-hot fire and mixed emotions; a searching of the body through the air we passed between us, mouth to mouth. And a churning of heat that we made with our mental friction and we didn’t care who saw it happening.
She pulled away then and looked at me again.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asked.
I stammered in my private confusion and watched as she turned and walked away from me without a backward glance.
And it will always be this way, I thought.
Some people can only be kissed Goodbye.