The girl at the bar is not her, my sweet Julie, gone and lost forever. She is nothing but a memory fading into a dim glow of fond remembrances and sad thoughts tinged with bitterness.
I steal glances at her when I dare and study her face, not like Julie's, yet so similar to her memory. They are not alike at all. Dark hair vs. light. Brown eyes against blue. Her mouth is not Julie's mouth, which I can almost see wrapped around my nipple as her small hand kneads the other breast and a thumb and finger tweak at its rose- coloured crown.
I wonder why she brings this flood of thoughts and ancient images even as I wonder how her long fingers would feel enter into my sex, doing things to me that Julie had done. I imagine her face between my legs and her large eyes looking into mine as she closes her lips around the pearl of my womanhood, as Julie had so many times.
I want to caress her cheek as I did my Julie's. I want to kiss her neck as I did my Julie's.
I stand up and drop payment for my drink on my table. I lick my lips and follow the heart-shape curve of her face with my eyes. I walk towards her thinking of her gold thighs against my cheeks as I lift my mouth to her and feel her tongue dip into me.
She shifts in her stool and takes the hand of the scruffy boy next to her. Her white smile is just for him. I pass. I go through the door and out into the street. I walk the empty sidewalk in the light of the street lamps.
My thoughts are on distant Julie.
© 2003 Kenny N Gamera
