Stories

“when I say remember
Your eyes reflect, give back.”
You ask me to tell you a story,
As your fingers make dizzying trails
Across the back of my neck,
Sending shivers down my back that
Distract me.
A story? I ask. About what?
You don’t know. Make one up.
So I start.
I tell you there once was a girl,
I start this way because I am a girl
And after all, I should tell you a story
About what I know.
So this girl, I say,
Has a car.
A car? You ask.
Yes. Shut up. I reply.
You are always interrupting my stories.
You remain quiet and your fingers are still
Distracting me.
She has a car. I say.
And she’s driving her car at night.
At night? You ask.
I sit up from the spooning position
We were in.
We like to spoon.
It makes us feel closer
Because we fit together so well.
Do you want a story? I ask.
You wrap your arms around me.
A hug.
I just want to hear you talk.
You whisper.
I’m distracted.
You always do this.
I stare at you and
Your eyes are sparking
With concealed mirth.
I’ve never finished a story
You’ve asked me to tell.