the bottom of my shoe is sticky because i stepped in gum. i stepped in gum because of you, because you put your hands on my face and pulled me towards you and i lost my balance in the middle of the sidewalk, two blocks away from home.
i stepped in gum and my shoes, which were expensive, are ruined. they were lost in the wreckage that was created out of that kiss, that hard and quiet kiss that you placed on my lips just before i stepped in gum and ruined my shoes.
said shoes, may they rest in peace, were black and soft buttery suede. the opposing gum was blue and smeared itself, rather inexplicably, not only on the underside of my shoe, but all the way up to my ankle, across my arch, and over my toe as well. when i lost my balance, i stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk and, as you and i both tried unsuccessfully to restore my rightful position in the universe, i tumbled to the ground in what must have been slow motion. i was falling and flailing and shouting and laughing and your eyes were the size of saucers as you watched me go down. in the milliseconds between being poised and fresh and my ass unceremoniously hitting the concrete, the heel of my other shoe, the as yet untainted survivor, snapped with a loud punctuated CRACK.
i was down both shoes and lying on the sidewalk giggling like a lunatic. you stood over me with your mouth hanging open, completely unsure of what to do next.
you chose perfectly; without missing a beat, you slipped off your own shoes, first the left, then the right. you stood there in your socks with your eyes sparkling and glanced meaningfully at my feet.
our bare toes scarcely touched the ground as we made our way home. we were laughing and kissing and our shoes, my broken heels and your old exhausted chucks, were left on the sidewalk, entwined in each other.
i stepped in gum tonight.
i’ve never loved you more.