The Museum of Pigeon Shit
he left the seat warm
with a crushed pair of rose-tinted shades
a bullet hole gaping through the left eye lens
memories of the view through them
trailed out the hole in his wrinkle-free pant pocket
when he stepped out the movie theater doors
the night shift pigeons cooed, flocked
and pecked at the disillusion trail mix
unequal parts
- love at first sight
- the rush of vulnerability's roller-coaster
- the tennis match back and forth of heightening interest
- the checkmate of seduction's queen capturing
- the love comedown, love junkie withdrawal
- love junkie coming back to love dealer for a love fix
when the pigeons shat the next day from city rafter heights it would contain
- her twirling her hair, biting her lip's edge
- the breath that escaped her after they kissed
- broken spirit circuits completed by her conversation
- co-authored fantasies of a life together swirling in early morning espresso cups
- the journey they began away from Loneliville
- the chasm they reached
- him on one side
- her on the other
- the rope he thought he saw in her hand
- the rope she thought she saw in his hand
- confusion as to why neither tossed it across
- her face and how it seemed all of a sudden to be that of a woman's he had never met
thus he walked out to a place where there was no pigeon shit
a place without flings & one night stands
where abstinence was synonymous with the highest sanitation standards
and pigeon shit was outlawed
on these streets, he peeked timidly through the looking glass
and saw his present wrapped with a red and gold bow
in it he enjoyed pleasant interactions with women
LOOK BUT DON'T TOUCH!
he would get to know them and be nothing more than friends
LOOK BUT DON'T TOUCH!
flirtations that turned into a romantic dead end
LOOK BUT DON'T TOUCH!
he had entrusted his heart and dick to the world's highest security museum
till she came to the front desk with her frizzy curly brown hair
she said she just needed some information
information about him
with her wide eyes and girlish ticks she seemed far from a museum robber
LOOK BUT DON'T TOUCH!
but something about her gave the air of disinterest in touching
that idea that museum property could remain pristine
no pigeon shit!
he had to admit it was nice
her ease of being
she was so inquisitive about him
she made him feel like a book -
a book that you almost had to chain yourself to a bedpost to prevent yourself from flipping through to the end because you were so into it
he liked books and she was a book to him too
he let her turn the page but only one at a time
though he remained unaware that he was letting
they talked about childhood bliss and pains, family, politics, religion,
pop culture, any thing that came to mind
in the quicksand of caution
he found adventure in their commonalities
and tear-inducing laughter in their differences
LOOK BUT......
he was letting the display window down slowly
his thoughts filled with anticipation of their next meeting
he woke up longing to see the look in her eyes brimming with kind mischief
time took a different nature
there was time he spent with her
then there was time spent on lesser things
the time he spent with her turned candles into wax puddles
conversations of growing intimacy that he was weakened to recoil from
LOOK.....
he liked what he saw
it made him forget about pigeon shit
one wintry day he finally asked her over
when she mouthed 'yes'
he wanted to suck the fog that came out of her mouth
and see if his tongue picked up hints of salvation
but the fog raced away just like the time in between
his proposal and their meeting
that night when she pulled into the drive way
and turned the key in her car
his inhibitions went off
when she knocked on the door
his heart reverberated
when he opened the door and saw her eyes light up
he became a victim of instant pigeon shit amnesia
she told him she liked his place and what he had done with it
as she slunk around admiring his hanging art and foreign antiques
her lips hung loosely as if she had something to say
but he had to pry it from inside her mouth
vibes twinkled ambiance out of his surround sound speakers
she sloshed the wine in her glass around as she sat at her dinning table seat
he drew back the curtain on the view of the frozen lake outside the window
he said the dining table was special; he bought it just for the dinner
she understood when he turned off the lights and pressed a button on the side
she heard a spark and saw a row of candles inside the glass light up around the edges
the entire room was dark except for the light coming from inside the table
she gasped then and when she took her first bite of saffron infused couscous almost choking on a candied apricot
when they finished he heard laughter outside and they moved to the window where
a 10 year old girl silhouette darted about on the frozen lake whistling to herself
her shoulder brushed his arm as they watched her
pigeon shit ceased to exist when she smiled and he found his arm encircling her waist
that was the moment time found space
her body collapsed into his awakening embrace
the contact thawed something inside him
her curly hair spilled onto his chest
his face collapsed into her curly hair
she turned up to his face
his tongue found the answer that had been hiding inside her mouth
her hand on his shirt buttons made his shirt unnecessary
his hand in her jeans made the option of nudity illusory
next he was carrying her into his room
and laying her on velvet sheets
neither of their searching hands found concealed weapons
she pressed her body so hard against his he could hear her thoughts
when her legs parted
the 'LOOK BUT DON'T TOUCH' sign dislodged, fell and shattered into uncountable pieces
when they were spent and satiated
he pressed his sweaty forehead into her hair
and whispered into the back of her neck
'i love you'
she turned in his arms, kissed him on the lips
and whispered into his ear
'baby i'm just having fun'
he turned from her
and saw a pigeon lift off from the window sill he was facing
but he closed his eyes too soon
to see the stain on the frosting glass....
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