You kissed me goodbye for the first time in front of a little boy with black hair whose legs couldn’t touch the ground from his seat on the airport terminal’s chair. As we walked, his head followed us. I saw him out of the corner of my eye as you held me, arms tight around my waist. He had wide irises and thick eyebrows. His head was titled to the side till his father or grandfather pulled him around to talk to him.

Even once he was done watching, I could sense that others had begun. I suppose as a lesbian couple in a Texas airport, I shouldn’t have been surprised that people found us interesting. I wanted to ask them just what about us they found curious. Was it that they wondered how we had sex? I wanted to offer to teach them how to use Google, so they could find the answers to their questions about lesbian fornification, but I couldn’t bear to move away from you, not when your cheek was pressed against the freckle on my neck.

I wanted to tell couple watching from across the room, the older woman in the blue t-shirt and the man at her side with spectacles balanced tentatively on the bridge of his nose, that you smelled like vaguely like Old Spice because you have an odd taste in deodorants. I wanted to tell them that they couldn’t tell anything about us from all the way over there.

Trying to get back into some CNF writing, I’m feeling a little rusty on my micro essay skills.


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