warm glow, perry & pin [blitz]

[fox]

p e r r y

the sky looks hazel at 4 p.m., treeline of evergreen lit aglow with a setting sun. climbing contest over, the crowds of people dispersed into smaller groups and we found our way onto the trunk of a fallen tree. the campfire swirls bright orange embers, and in the heat, the snow turns to water when it lands on my skin.

we sit a little bit apart, no books between us, and i guess i've never really had much to say.

winter came suddenly this year, our aster bushes in the front yard withering overnight. but the birds had already flown south, the queen bumblebees were asleep in the frozen ground, and it was always people who have never been good at harkening the turning of the seasons.

fall to winter, and now i have known pinocchio a whole season. my scarf frays in my hands.

i reach into my pocket, hands finding the coldness of a metal lighter.

i light a cigarette, inhale before speaking –

"i have something."

i bought a recorder with my allowance, spent nights lying awake, staring at my ceiling and listening to cassettes i've collected from the black market. two hundred and thirty two songs between static and pops and the texture of age, fiddling with the player and recorder, and i pull the cassette player from inside my coat.

"here. i made this for you."

{ boy, that sure-fire desire is t r u e }

[d4 Panda Scope [Gayton]]

Have I known you twenty seconds,
or twenty years?

There was something unusual about the way the day played out. Like an understudy who forgot their script. The motions were there, Perry sitting across from me, an infinity of centimeters between us and not speaking. But we had no books, like the prop table had forgotten to be set. We were amateur actors struggling to know what to do with our hands without something to hold.

Perry lit up a cigarette. I hated when he smoked, it was a bad habit and could cause a forest fire. I never said anything but my face was expressive. Was he addicted, or was he fiddling? Depends which of us you ask.

But eventually Perry did speak, an ad lib as he had no lines. "I have something," he handed me a box that could only be described as vintage, "here. I made this for you."

He was so matter of fact. Almost nervous. I couldn't fight the smile that cuddled my face. "Thank you, you didn't have to do that."

But as I twiddled the box in my hand and hit the play button and the sweetest number started to play I was overwhelmed with guilt.

"I didn't get you anything, though," I admitted, "I didn't realize."

A pause.

"This was thoughtful. I love y-- it."

Lyrics: "Lover" by Taylor Swift

[fox]

P   E   R   R   Y

the smoke curls around me, between us, as he hits play on the cassette player. music bleeds from the headphones and i catch a few grainy words, the sound stark in the cold air. he's silent for a moment. then, he turns to me "i didn't get you anything, though."

"you didn't need to."

"this was thoughtful. i love y-- it."

there's a restlessness now in the quiet. i smoke, my hands turning blue and red from the chill, the warmth of nicotine humming gold in my stomach, and i've become the colours of the sky in the evening. and i'm not sure how i feel yet, mind falling through memories, turning back and forth with the weight in my palms.

i guess i've never known what it was like to want somebody. and i've watched people kiss at parties, kiss at school, and there were moments, in the dead of night, friends gone out swimming in the river and bars with curious strangers drinking. there were moments, and then there was nothing.

i'm seventeen.

i might as well try everything once.

i'm looking at the trees in the distance when i say "wait – can i ask you for something?"

SKY GONE A CERTAIN SHADE OF BLUE.