Paul

Austin, Texas. A blur of double whiskeys, Friday Night Lights references, shaggy bartenders with polite drawls. Graffiti lit the path of “up and coming” street, shadows of construction cranes threatening to bring us down from our adrenaline high.

Over tacos, it was decided. Our deepest loves would be painted on our bodies, Texas forever. We mosied up the steps of a quiet, clean building. It kept its graffiti on the inside.

I felt the numbers on my skin before they were sealed. I felt kind eyes on me, envisioning his canvas. Paul.

Vulnerable, I felt the gun pierce my skin. Paul put pen to paper. The value of the numbers increased as they were polished and dabbed. I was new. I was more myself than before, dear reader. I was a canvas.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Paul

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s