Don’t go into the gazebo, please.
Please luv, go back to the fat fuck in the bar, more interested in his beer and boyo’s ….. than you.
Please luv, do this one little thing for me – you’ve already denied me so many requests.
Please luv, don’t be from around here … close enough to call, to commute.
“Chicago”
Please luv, allow me to rephrase – don’t be from around here or someplace I’ve lived before. Don’t lead me into a longer conversation with you.
Please luv, don’t waive over the wait staff and order yourself another, last thing we need is for this moment to become more unwise with wine.
Please luv, don’t smile at me like that, wider and warmer than the one you tossed my way hours ago. Some weird recognition for a man you never met but immediately knew. I think it was the light tan linen suit, perfect for a summer wedding in my opinion though the surrounding dark blue and black suits arbitrating the contrary. I didn’t choose it to be noticed ….
Please luv, don’t notice me ….
The flower girl, ring bearer, and bride to be have already walked down the isle, there’s no longer a need to look over your bare shoulder, allowing the curve of your jawbone to push the pearl necklace to the side, just enough to reveal the tiny mole covering the crest of your clavicle.
Please luv, go back inside and retrieve your pocket book and light your own cigarettes
It’s pure instinct for me to hold out the lighter and torture to have you cup your hand around it …. Tenderly blocking the non-existent wind and lingering there long after the literal flame has left.
Please luv, I know the sun has gone down, but don’t shiver and run your hand across the goose bumps upon your arms, don’t comment upon the cold.
Please luv, don’t turn your backless dress to me and comment on the extra trip to the tanners to even out and erase the tan lines for this braless day. I’ve already noticed more than once, and more so now that I approach you and slip my jacket over your shoulders. Your hands reaching up and touching mine as you gather the lapels about you.
Please luv, don’t think it’s a great night for a walk … don’t take that first step in your open toed shoes … I’ve been down that path before, it’s familiar, I know the way … I miss it so much, and would love to keep you company on this warm summers day, across the properly manicured grass, tickling your French tipped pedicure, the waist high hedges, the shrubberys shadow cast across your shoulders, turning the corner towards the Gazebo … too far for the parlor lights, for prying eyes, to reach … all the while remaining within my arms reach. Don’t linger here too long luv, your lower lip quivering for warmth, your thick lipstick lit by starlight …. Less than an arms reach away, reaching to put away my pack of cigarettes into the inner pocket of my coat that you still wear, brushing against the outer curve of your breast that clothless place just beneath your underarm, the distance so short between us your nervous breath caresses my chin, as you tilt your twinkling eyes towards mine and raise your mouth to the moonlight …
Please luv, Don’t go into the Gazebo, your cigarettes done, give back my coat, and don’t thank me with that enticing smile… go inside and sit next to the man that drunkenly doesn’t remember that he brought you.
Please luv, leave me now … hours later as I walk around West Chester, having smoked too many cigarettes for your scent to still be in my coat … yet you’re still in my coat, I pull strands of your long black hair from the lapel, making a wish on them as they wander off into the wind ...
Love, Inks

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