ginger

it begins with a question, "do you listen to radiohead?" she had the body of a heroine addict and the eyes of an angel. oh and i could never forget that violent red hair that fell on her shoulders like cheap unmeasured drapes that would hang in some dark apartment. i answered back, "sure." as i later learned she turned on the cd in rainbows, a cd that for the rest of my life will remind me of this poor girl. both of us are in her room which she previously tells me used to be a large closet. i don't doubt it one bit. it barely fits her bed which we are sitting on, then soon laying on. or rather im laying on, and she is laying on me. i can sense her desperation for escape as we frantically kiss and grab at each other, knowing the entire time her parents are somewhere else in the house. we are not kissing passionately, but desperately. the way a homeless man may eat a meal. soon the music stops and so do we. and also just as soon im walking to my truck by myself feeling eyes burn mercilessly into me the entire distance. How Come I End Up Where I Started?