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"The Smoke Curls Up Around Us," by Kisha Sanders The smoke curls up around us, a blanket, separating us, leaving only two people in the world. I slide my hand to the middle of the table, willing you to take it. Infallibly you do, covering my hand with yours. I like this predictability. I'm trembling, but you don't notice as you lift my hand to your lips. You look into my eyes and speak. "You're beautiful tonight," another gentle touch of your lips, this time to my palm. You know how I love that, how I love you, how I can't stay angry with you when you're this sweet, but this time... "Thank you," I smile slightly, knowing that's what you want, the subtle look of embarrassment, childlike, what you've always valued... You return my smile, lower your hand to the table, fingers still wrapped around mine. "You have these little creases," you reach across, brush my forehead with your fingertips. I allow that touch, that intimacy. "What are you thinking?" "That I don't wish to talk." Your smile fades, you appear hurt, and I am immediately sorry. I squeeze your hand, smile again. perhaps my manner is cold; I'm not apologetic. "Shall we dance?" you ask, already out of the chair. "Yes," I agree with a slow nod, and follow you down the stairs to the dance floor. It's not crowded tonight and I'm glad as you pull me to you. Our movements match the slow, easy beat of the song, and I watch the other couples over your shoulder. Your breathing is slow under my hand and I think, this is all I know, you are all I know. " I love you," you whisper, pressing your cheek to mine. "Don't speak to me of love tonight." My fingertips brush your lips as you step back with the ending of the song. Your eyes yield confusion. "What is it?" you ask. I hold you to me with the start of the next dance. My trembling is now yours as my lips move over your face, you forehead, cheeks, and stop at your mouth ever so briefly. "This is all there is, my angel. All we are," you are crying, your tears fall on my shoulder. My own come more slowly, when I release you and you release me, and there is one more kiss. The legal stuff. . .This page probably doesn't represent the thoughts, opinions, etc. of the entire Indiana Academy. In fact, I would bet it doesn't even come close. What's more, it's copyrighted 1998 by the Warren. . . with all poetry, prose, and graphics copyrighted by their authors. If you copy or reproduce any bit of this site without its creator's permission, you are violating all sorts of laws, not to mention ethics. We will pursue action through your ISP. This site is updated each time the Warren receives a new submisson. Calm down, that's not very often. The last update was November 14.
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The Warren is a literary magazine of the Indiana Academy. It is entirely student-produced -- from writings to publication -- and is in no way subject to administrative censure. No Burris students were harmed in the creation of this website. |