She was, as they called it back then, “easy.” But it wasn’t the welcome mat laid out before her that drew me to her. No, not at all. It was something deeper than that.
A danger zone of sorts. She loved to walk barefoot in the park. She wanted to feel the earth beneath her and the dirt between her toes. She wore her skin like an ID tag. She had that way of standing, eyes emoting before any emotion was expressed otherwise.
Her hair was dirty blonde, long enough that it hit her shoulders, but not long enough to pass them. It had curls that I loved to run my hand through. She loved me to gently pull her hair and to kiss the back of her neck.
She had that crooked smile that expressed disdain for the simpler people she attracted. She would lure and then ensnare them into her world. She got bored easily and would dispense of them like the core of an apple or the rind from an orange.
She broke the hearts of boys and girls, never really intending to love, just wanting some physicality.
Lips against lips, the unique taste of skin and the generated heat lingering.
She wore a leather coat and black jeans in the winter. Short denims in the summer topped with a white t-shirt.
Hey eyes were deathly blue, like ice on fire. She must’ve had x-ray vision because she used to see through everyone and know at the outset the inner truth of each lover.
I met her when I stepped outside a restaurant to smoke my last smoke of the day. She was standing there looking human, more human than I would ever remember.
She had tears in her eyes, sniffled prior to taking a deep inhale of her smoke.
As we began to speak, her tears slowly subsided and she let out a quick laugh, wiped her eyes and introduced herself.
We shook hands and I felt an instant excitement, like I was 14 years old again.
We stood there until I told her, “Let’s get out of here.”
We left our companions in the restaurant and took a cab to the Brooklyn Bridge.
We walked across towards Manhattan, there was a full moon, late October cool, the city looked like lit up Legos almost touchable and pocket size. She took my hand and we stood silently watching.
“I’m not a great person.” She said as if in confession.
“Whoever claims to be is full of shit. Just be truthful, I cannot stand even the smallest lie.”
“That I can do, but you may not always like what you hear.”
“I can take the truth even if it’s painful, the pain will pass. The lies though, those hurt forever.”