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. 















thanks to Scout Finch for the title

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