(written back in December 2015, this piece started me off on exploring the use of made-up hyphenated words after using ‘tire-roared’ here, and it’s also written with a woman as the narrator)
Your words made bad sound good.
First met in a bar of best repute, my heels bringing our eyes level, you toasted my rear and dared a response. Catching my hand mid-strike, reactions belying glazed pupils, you belched apologies through teasing lips. Your grip, tightly taut, eased with fingers sliding over my rings, lowering arms and barriers in one movement.
A jousting evening, words sharp as lances, ended in more than sex, less than love, frantic fumblings turning rhythmic repetitions. Dawn you smoked, I stared; we both understood unsaid commitments. Lifestyles ricocheted, mine surfing above the board you trod beneath. But there was something about you, differently dangerous, drawing me down. We parted, no promises proffered, yet knowing our unparallel paths would collide again.
You were there, days not weeks after that meet, waiting, time counting, finger flicking, stepping in front as I exited the theatre. I smiled with excitement, trembled with fear, icy heat sliding up my arm as hands touched. You offered a meal, I offered my time; you paid with a gold card, I paid with my future. Sex followed sex, but the in-between was greater, revelations by you, risking dislike and distance, but gambling excitement and enticement.
That dawn I was hooked, undesirous to leave, to taste delights outside my history, dangers never forewarned by mothers, highs that made all previous like the lowest of lows. You talked, I swallowed, a legend painted for creation. You showed me guns, cold metal warming my skin, as erotic as any lovemaking, and never flagging. You showed me plans, explained simplicity, like the teacher leading a pupil, an innocent and unfilled vacuum. I never left your side again.
The first was dim-lit basement cavern, high rollers high-rolled, barrels at temples, courage lapping their ankles. Money bundled in bags, more than six months my earnings, crumpled papers passing their dirt deep under fingernails. We laughed and tumbled on beds, counting lost after ten thousand, knowing we’d consummated something special.
The next lifted limits, precious jewels dropping dew-like into satchels, braceleted bangles imitating celestial rainbows sliding as they slid inside pockets, watches ticking out their worth as spilt unwound into boxes. You gun-butted an assistant, just because you could, I sneered at his powerlessness and kissed your barrel. We tire-roared away, Bonnie and Clyde updated.
Bank cashiers blanched and blasphemed, audacity admired, as just two dared the biggest deposits in town. I toted a double barrel, upgraded upstart you jeered, daring a movement, desiring to trigger. Pale-faced near-retiree sweated his age, fingers dropped from position, I pulled and oblivion welcomed him. Exhilaration ensured, yelling for the next, you pulled me out, millions left blowing in the wind.
We drove, motoring one step ahead, light cases lightly traveled, motels our mansions, gas stations our resorts. Criss-crossing county lines, states becoming states of mind, stopping to shoot up with shooters, sexing the evenings like animals at rut, nothing could stop us, until we stopped ourselves.
Sitting atop grass laden cliff, sunning our guns and baking our loot, you looked, and your eyes said ‘Hey, enough.’ I laughed, joking your party piece, but tiredness in pupils sold me your truth. We fired the car, our child in tow, looked over the edge, remembered Butch and Sundance, Thelma and Louise, hovered high jinksed then jumped. Back. Back into reality, cry-laughing to the next new town.
And our next new life.