Desire, she said

For as long as I could remember the house was shrouded, at least from my backyard, by tall pines and generous weeping willows. Even the front facing has its share of shrubbery. I never saw the inside until we were in high school, complete with rustic hand-carved shelves coated with nick knacks and paneling of maybe walnut.

They had moved in sometime during our elementary years. The girl behind me used to hang out with their daughter who went to a private school at first. I heard people say things about her from time to time. Some of it was just talking, some of it kept me wondering at night. Somehow it seemed that people thought things they never said out loud.

She has eyes that stop time and a mouth that never stops.

Her mother had remarried and cussed at me for crossing their yard on my bike.

Lunch my sophomore year was in the middle of Spanish class. She was that special ingredient in the buffet of misfits at our table, from devil to angel almost overnight.

One chance exchange of lingering glances was all it ever took.

Her song is her stories. Times and events fall into a rhyme and meter to which only she can dance.

Calcetínes are socks. ¿Puedo ir al baño, por favor?

I offered consistent presence and she met me half way. Never a couple yet always a pair.

Too blue to stand it but too yellow to make a move.

Rarely did she talk about practical everyday things. Part of her died too young I glean. Her brother perhaps, or her innocence. Or both.

I always liked how she was herself in jeans and a sweater most days.

For such a popular person it was as though none of us really knew her.

Once a week we take turns putting mustard or ketchup or pickles or onions on our breaded pork sandwiches. Years later she tells me she never really cared for breaded pork.

Silly fool deny the undeniable. Go make your bed somewhere else.

It's not easy being green.

Certain males in her life she describes as you would an intestinal disease or heinous crime.

Maybe deeper understanding is not always worth the risk of loving.

What's the new U2 song called?

Desire, she said in a flat voice, staring out somewhere beyond the pines and willows.