wild horses

I wore silver gloves and a dragonfly in my hair. The music pounded at my feet as we pushed our way across the dance floor. The punch was sweet and cold.

We left early and went to the beach instead. I held on to every moment, the salt smell of the air, the gardenias twined around my wrist. The way you draped your jacket around my bare shoulders.

Our kisses tasted of popsicles and seashells and longing. We looked into the water, cold and silvery. After you drove away, I pressed myself against my bedroom door, breathless, and already lonely.

'wild horses' (c) riain grey 2006 - do not reproduce without written permission