Can You Catch Herpes With Pants On

A photograph

"We were born for another joy"
Andre Gide, The Narrow Door

But how beautiful you. Only now I realize now that so much time has passed and the calendar is a river in flood. In memory becomes even more beautiful and I even more stupid and clumsy. I do not know if me or dell'idiota blame if the events, leaning against the sins long hand of Fate, the chains of the case, the effect of chance. "First you said" I seem to hear it and then laugh like that you had to tilt his head back and shake the wave of the hair. "First you said," but I knew how I've changed and what I spent ...

of those nights with you I still remember the sweet and bitter taste in the mouth feel of something that perhaps it was only our unconscious, the bitter fruit of youth. I get drunk the sweetness that made me hold you to me, looking dreamily or just tired, abandoned in my arms as he fell the night. Now think of it like a fever, a burning sensation on the skin that burns and burns in the mind, the fire kept constantly on the Vestal Virgins in ancient Roman temples, the eternal flame dedicated to the fallen for their country in the Mausoleum of Largo Gemelli.

not regret, not even nostalgia. It's a feeling hard to analyze, perhaps made a resigned inevitability of events, an understanding that things could go differently, that what we might call fate or contingency was not simply the natural course of things. It was a pure love, they believe in, and has consumed itself, was so exhausted, spontaneously, like a candle under a bell glass. Not like a plant that dries up and dry, but just like a fire that goes out due to lack of oxygen.

parted our ways, changed the city, friends, prospects. Our relations were limited to postcards, some courtesy call, to schedule appointments that we knew we would not have ever put on the calendar. The weather began to flow faster, the days, months, years piled up like stones. Today, searching for an old photo of my baby when I'm dressed as an astronaut for Carnival, a bundle of flash output is your image, slightly faded colors: light wear that dress that I liked so much, narrow at the waist by a belt Leather and in your eyes shining spark of love. Juan Ramón Jiménez as I can tell you: "Following the spring as it was not you, as it was not you." But oh, how wonderful and how beautiful our youth ...

Photo of Brian C. Chillemi