One drink and seven or ten…by G. Mramor


Gustave Caillebotte, Jeune homme à sa fenêtre
Because he does not want to believe that one drink and seven makes no love. Because in the far back of the taxi he can see her head on his shoulder and her hand on his knee and his on top of hers like they’ve never been away. Because the boy next to him sees his look and the boy across sees his look and the man at the bar sees his look and turns away. Because in the center of all the laughing his smile comes from across the room. Because his hands slip under her shirt and she hides behind her hair but he turns her face and her eyes like one drink and seven doesn’t make a drunk in them but something just for him. Because even if they never see each other again one night in love makes more than all his days watching, one drink and seven or ten.

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