Saturday, September 09, 2006



"There's a line between love and fascination,
Hard to see on an evening such as this,
For they give the very same sensation.
When you’re lost in the passion of a kiss."

Oh I'm deep, deep in nostalgia, recalling forty year-old kisses from Jonny --my first high school sweetheart. I can't remember when it started. Some cold morning on Morningside Heights. We all hugged one another so freely, and nothing was made of it. So we kissed freely too and nothing was made of it either. After awhile ( a very short while) I became dependent on Jonny-kisses. Was he dependent on me? Hard to say. Frankly I don't think he knew what he was doing. I certainly did. I wanted it all -- Cinemascope and Color by DeLuxe with the full 20th Century-Fox fanfare blaring in the background. (Our local Bernard Herrmann-obsessive would have loved that, leading as he'd hope to a cue for Beneath the 12-Mile Reef.) But that's a tad far afield from Jonny and me, who were generally to be found sitting quietly together. rarely talking. Usually I'd talk and he'd nod.

Naturally I thought it would go on forever, but it didn't. When did it stop? Again hard to say. It sort of evaporated. No "Big Scene." No regrets. No remorse either. In fact I forgot about him for awhile. I was in pursuit of other boys, and besides
after graduating he wen to Israel joined a Kibbutz and was never heard from again.

Oh Jonny I'd love to think of you alive and smiling. You big head of unkempt dirty blond hair in my lap. Your cozy body clutched to mine.

No. I'm neither drunk nor crying.

Just deep in a dream of you.

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