Notes

I miss you! I miss the laughter, the wine, the cigarettes, how terribly rebellious we got when the boys told us what to do, how to behave. You always knew how to show you were free; if it was necessary, you would tell them to fuck off. Oh I miss you, your irreverence, your passion, and your kisses. I would not have tongued you like that if we hadn’t been in a hurricane, drunk as hell, and yet I remember you, I remember the taste. I loved it when we danced and played piano like two witches bursting in flames. I loved the feeling of being about to take off. When I was with you anything could happen, running around the neighborhood naked, driving to the city hall to scream the major what an asshole he was, getting into a teenager party to talk about revolution. What else did we own but pretending we were crazy? After all, we were only somebody’s wives. It was our free choice to be so.