For a moment you were very, very beautiful. And you were very well aware of it,
It was only for a single night.
Mid August and the humidity settled in so heavy you put up your hair and decided to wear a dress when we went out, which you never do.
You drank a bit too much and danced by yourself because I did not. You knew though. You understood that you were being
watched; being savored. All hair and skirt spinning on the patio under those cheap Chinese lanterns. Your blue eyes sparkling bright as flares.
I told you you were drunk, I also told you you were going to regret it in the morning and I mentioned, more than once, how beautiful you were.
You laughed but kissed me hard, on the mouth, right there by the cashier as we stumbled out.
Yes, you said, I am damn well beautiful tonight. Damn beautiful you said, face flushed and words slurred more than a little. But that one night
it was true as gospel.
The fact that I was the only witness did not make it any less true. That you don't recall a moment doesn't make it any less perfect.