the kiss

It was a kiss in a backseat, that cliché that songwriters banish from their minds whenever they have songs to write and too little time to do it. She looked at him with those dark, smoky eyes, and he wanted it to last forever. But it was not to be. He was confused and did not know what to do. She put her arms around him, and he put his around her. He let himself go into that warm caress, it was all he could see and touch, and nothing else mattered. It was surreal, the car was headed back, and she was looking at him while giving the directions for home, but he didn’t care. All he knew was that it was ending too soon, and he didn’t want it to end. Finally, the door opened, and he felt that his very life hinged on that moment. “Aren’t you going to send me up?” he wanted to, but he couldn’t. It was so familiar, that helplessness and anguish that he had inflicted on himself.
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