the world and writing of a nyc writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Tag: new york city (page 3 of 73)

day 13. “two”.

Two (an excerpt)

“We kiss in Sperlonga,” he promises. “…my voice is F flat, it’s terrible. I know this.”

“I only dream of you,” I tell him. “Every night. Every night, I dream of your touch.”

“Every dream, I feel your touch.” Continue reading

day four. what you miss.

I miss coffee in the morning. I miss watching him roll cigarettes. I miss waking up next to him, which is crazy because I usually refuse to sleep next to anyone, generally speaking.

I miss how my heart drops the second I see him after being apart. I miss kissing him goodbye at the subway.

There’s something therapeutic to me about obsession. People fuck love up all the time. To me, having a lover to keep comes down to one major factor: obsession. Continue reading

excerpt

The neighbors didn’t know if they loved or hated what they were hearing.

But they definitely heard. Because the two of us weren’t quiet.

Like, when I exhaled, the bed frame rattled. And when he whispered, the floor vibrated.

And the entire time, we smoked and drank espresso. There was nothing in the refrigerator, except for dark chocolate (90%!) and champagne. I always kept a fresh glass of water on the night table, the one on my side of the bed.

My spine opened wider every time I twisted toward him.

Everyone talked about us while we spoke Italian to each other; within the August heat of a New York City sun, in the center of midtown Manhattan – not far from Grand Central station – underneath a cloudless sky.

We would speak to each other with our lips touching, a low song that no one else had ever sang to me before.

I only wore dresses. Not very much makeup. Only Chanel lipstick that he picked out for me, and which didn’t usually work out. I ordinarily kissed it off on the first napkin to reach me during one of our days spent walking the city together – before his tongue was in my mouth again.

We talked about family and architecture and traveling, mostly. Sometimes orchestra. Sometimes poetry… (excerpt)

ex·cerpt | noun
?ek?s?rpt/
1. a short extract from a piece of music or writing.

dissotterrare zelo

dissotterrare zelo

era come
Guardò fuori
per me. e noi
innamorarsi
prima che qualcuno
avuto la possibilità
a lampeggiare. sognare …
prima non avrei mai potuto
essere qualcosa
Che si adatta un certo
forma; H e I
formata insieme.
E i miei occhi
ha aperto. le mie labbra
disse.
Niente.

unearth zeal

it was like
he looked out
for me. and we
fell in love
before anyone
had a chance
to blink. to dream…
prior to i could never
be something
that fits one certain
shape; he and i
formed together.
and my eyes
opened. my lips
said.
nothing.

hold your heart

Namaste blah-g tribe

Yesterday was one of the best days of my life. I don’t really say that often, good days, maybe – best days? Not so much.

My best day involved a 24-hour stint with the apparent love of my life; wandering around Manhattan, feeding each other dark chocolate, watching hours pass from park benches and swapping secrets in international ways.

My favorite part of the day was in my midtown abode, roped in braids of sweat, being serenaded in Italian. That was without a doubt one of my ultimate, “Holy shit, is this actually my life?” moments. Continue reading

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