SAFE

Eugenia Puglisi

Close your eyes. We are at that house where Betty and her lover lived, that house in the middle of the village. The chili is on the stove, the sun is out, and no one is thinking of lighting the house on fire yet. The easy love you wanted is still here, one with the lightness of midnight rendezvous at the sixties bar, with the taste of the fresh shrimp we ate at the Turkish market. Close your eyes, and I no longer want to be crazy, I no longer want you to be crazy. This is the world where you are the writer you wanted to be, and I have left the boring suburb, and where we are much less fragile. Forget jagged edges, forget the modified stories, forget the lack of words. We don’t have to run away anymore.

[From my collection, “Afterhours”]

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