broken bikes

of tapes

i fell in love once;

a long time ago,

when love was a foreign concept

and cassette tapes were still used

he was tall and slim,

with broad shoulders

and a curved smile;

he had the most contagious laugh

we used to see each other at parties,

when he was drunk off cheap beers

and i was the designated driver

for my rowdy group of friends

he would find me in the crowd

and push overfilled cups into my hands,

and i would pretend to drink them,

because that was what he wanted

it was all like a planned game;

i would fake intoxication,

he would push me into an empty bedroom,

and then he would kiss me

our kisses were desperate,

the kind of kisses that happened

when two people

were craving to be together

i would never let him touch me;

his fingers lodged into my hair,

and his palms cupped my cheeks,

but that was all

because i was not in the business

of committing to someone

whose sloppy kisses

came with an alcoholic contingency

but i knew i loved him;

i knew it from the first time his lips grazed mine,

i knew it from the way his grin weakened my knees,

i knew it from my racing heartbeats

he came around my house every once in a while,

in the dead of night,

when secrets were exchanged over damp pillows

and bad decisions were made without second thoughts

we never kissed then

he would only coax me onto the front porch;

i was his confidant,

and he was mine

we would talk for hours,

and somewhere along the way,

love worked itself into the equation,

like an inevitable disease

he gave me a mixed tape for my seventeenth birthday,

one with slow songs and gentle music,

and a beautiful title;

for when love doesn't seem logical

and he was right,

because love never did seem logical,

but those songs somehow

eased the reality of the fact

maybe it was because

that tape was from him,

and it seemed to contain everything we were;

drunk and bad kissers and dyfunctional and hopeless and desperate

or maybe it was because

that tape was the stamp of our relationship;

the one piece of evidence

that love did not always have to be announced to be present

i still have that cassette,

tucked away on my bookshelf somewhere,

and i listen to it sometimes,

but only when love doesn't seem logical