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Part Jerry Lee Lewis, part George Gershwin, piano man Billy Joel combines Tin Pan Alley craftsmanship, rock-&-roll fervor, and a keen sense of...
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Grammercy LeftLOCATION: Grammercy , New YorkYEAR: 2008TAGS: sing, love, bloodPUBLISHED: July 16, 2008When I was turning 17, I spent my birthday weekend in FL. We drove around, Missy and I, hanging out with pierced delinquents. One cool night, we just drove down the highway with all the windows down. Ted drove. He was the president of the choir, and as this song rolled onto the stereo, he turned to Missy and sang. I don't know how long we drove that way. I was the only one, back seat, watching the road. It's been nine years now. And in this tiny apartment, we are reinforcing the act of love. The bed is shrinking in size, our motions wild and dangerous. There are pauses, Pauses filled with pictures of our glowing faces. Return to roll. Return to the force of it all. And then you are choking me, and with a flash of my eyes, you collapse and love me again. You creep towards my face, "I love you," you whisper. I bit your lip. Such things should never be said in close quarters. And as I felt your blood dry on my chin, I zipped up my jeans, threw my hair into a pony, pulled over my faded black T. I closed that door, woke up the neighbors, winked at the doorman. I haven't been to Grammercy since.
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