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Message to Readers

this is in the same ~universe as something else i published here ('smoke signals'). still in need of that elusive thing called plot but i luv these characters so this is something that i've been cooking

june, on a kiss

June 20, 2019



It played through her mind like the start of every hour. Time was always moving without her permission. Passing, passing; a flash of red hair, lips on lips, pear and coconut on her tongue. Her sharp chin every time June blinked, the taste of chapstick, the taste of alcohol and a kiss. Every time she thought she could rest, the idea of it — for it was too sharp to be a memory —came rushing back, relentless as time.

They’d kissed before — kissed while drunk after kissing many other people, kissed each other’s faces and foreheads and loose limbs in the middle of a Whitney Houston song, kissed playing spin-the-fucking-bottle in seventh grade. Those were all kisses, but fake ones, now that June thought about it. They all ended in giggles, dissolved in jokes and hangovers, interrupted with dance-offs and sweaty limbs and shots shots shots! June had already decided, long ago, that kisses only counted when you could remember them the next morning. Remember them as an idea, remember them with a smile that could split the sky open.

And then there were the times that June thought — well, she thought a lot of things. Imagined kisses with Lillia, hundreds of them, and then immediately felt guilty afterwards. But that one time, a few months ago, they were lying in a bed — June’s bed — facing each other. Both of them covered in glitter. It was far past midnight, but the moon streaming through the windows and cutting through June’s stupid pink canopy cast a magic-kind of light onto Lillia’s blue eyeliner. Her streaky mascara. Her curved lips, smeared in lipstick. That post-concert giddiness swimming in both of them — there was no way they were falling asleep.

So they talked about nothing and everything, until June was certain she could feel Lillia’s heartbeat in sync with her own through the blankets — how else could the sound be so loud, so fast, so certain? Moments past. Eyes locked. But nothing. Certainty was a tricky thing, after all, and June was always feeling like moments passing rather than a here and now. She supposed those moments existed, but she was never a part of them.



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  • June 20, 2019 - 12:23pm (Now Viewing)

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  • New York_dreamer

    This piece is spectacular! I loved reading this, it took me on a journey that made me fall in love with your character's emotions. Very well written! :)

    over 1 year ago
  • Oscar_Locke

    You've got such a gift. Your stories do have plot -- they write their own. And that is beautiful.

    over 1 year ago
  • loveletterstosappho

    i loved 'smoke signals' and i love this as well! both are elusive and don't reveal much about whatever is occurring in the universe in which they're set, but knowing about both of the gives each some more context, if that makes any sense? all i really know is that i'm in love with your words

    over 1 year ago