{"id":152,"date":"2006-02-11T20:22:00","date_gmt":"2006-02-11T20:22:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ayearofsongs.org\/blg\/?p=152"},"modified":"2015-11-02T16:18:48","modified_gmt":"2015-11-03T00:18:48","slug":"forget-about-the-moon-forget-about-the-stars","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ayearofsongs.org\/blg\/2006\/02\/11\/forget-about-the-moon-forget-about-the-stars\/","title":{"rendered":"Forget About the Moon, Forget About the Stars"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Forget
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\n<\/span><\/p>\n

W<\/span>hen he woke up on Easter morning she was lying next to him, on her side, her angled arm propping her head as she must have been watching him sleep.<\/p>\n

She leaned over and kissed him, over and over, across his face until he pushed her away. She laughed, jumped up and ran out into the living room in her t-shirt and panties.<\/p>\n

When she came back she was cradling something in her hands… a wicker basket with green cellulose strips coming out over the edges and a small collection of Easter eggs, chocolates, and a few whimsical toys — including a small, palm-sized rubber duck wearing a sailor hat. It wheezed asthmatically when he squeezed it.<\/p>\n

It was too much.<\/p>\n

She’d been laying this tender trap for a while now, he knew, and he’d been watching it with a certain detachment.<\/p>\n

But now he could feel himself falling, helplessly.<\/p>\n

And it was OK. It was good. He allowed himself to be enveloped by her warmth.<\/p>\n

She kneeled by him on the bed, her skinny arms sticking out of her t-shirt, her hands on her bare knees, watching him. He looked in her eyes for a long time and then pulled her down toward him, holding her for a long, long time before he let his hungry mouth find hers.<\/p>\n

That was Sunday. On Friday afternoon she called from work. They hadn’t been planning on getting together that night, but she asked if she could see him. She knew he was going to see a band he’d been working with later that night, but she said she needed to see him for a little while, anyway.<\/p>\n

As she walked in, he knew something was wrong.<\/p>\n

Her eyes only met his for brief moments and she walked around the room anxiously before she finally sat down. He sat across from her, at an angle, a few feet away.<\/p>\n

She was silent for a very long time. He could see she was crying.<\/p>\n

Finally she blurted, “I’m so confused…”<\/p>\n

And all he could think, deep down, as the darkness started spreading through him, all he could think was… You’re<\/span> so confused? You’re<\/span> confused?<\/p>\n

Over her shoulder, sitting on the corner of his desk, he could see the little rubber duck, its sailor cap jauntily to one side — as it always would be…<\/p>\n

Forget About the Moon<\/p>\n

official version – produced by Reggie Ashley<\/i><\/span>
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