July 22, 2011

Harder Kimio

This is post for The Red Dress Club. This prompt is to write a piece of fiction or non fiction based upon the photo below.

Somewhere out there the song of my heart is dancing to the song that only we hear. Somewhere out there she lives her life and in the quiet of the night remembers moments when she would hold onto my arms, smile and say “Harder Kimio.”

Somewhere out there the song of my heart remembers that vacation we took together and how we stopped time. This is one of the stories that she won’t tell you because she refuses to admit to herself that together we touched the face of god. She won’t talk about the moment on the beach or stolen kisses in an elevator.

She won’t tell you about the moment on the balcony as the sun set over the sea or how we collapsed upon the couch our limbs tangled and our hair tousled.

And perhaps I shouldn’t either. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you that we couldn’t tell where one of us ended and the other began. She didn’t have to tell me to take her nor did I have to ask.

We connected and understood. She gave and I received or maybe I gave and she received. Doesn’t matter who did what with what or to whom because what we did, we did together.

The song of my heart is dancing to the song that only we hear. Somewhere out there she dances and her body remembers my touch. Somewhere out there she remembers my hands upon her hips and the rumble of my voice in her ear.

In the secret garden of promises made and promises kept she remembers how we dropped the camera into a sink filled with water. She remembers how we laughed until our sides ached and how we walked her fingers intertwined in mine into that crazy camera shop.

We were short on cash but somehow we scraped enough together to buy that “Kimio” in the picture above. An hour later as we got ready to go to dinner I snapped a picture of her standing in front of the sink in bra and panties.

When she asked me why I did it I told her that I had been possessed by the spirit of Kimio. She laughed, threw her arms around my neck and kissed me.

Sometimes during the quiet of the night when I am embraced by the darkness I return to the garden of promises made and promises kept and look for the song of my heart. Under the moonlit sky I wonder if she still glides when she walks and secretly hope that one day I will feel her hold my arms and whisper “Harder Kimio” again.

If you are interested in reading past submissions you can find a list of them below:

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