She’s feeling self conscious in her new dress

ducking behind my figure as we meander

through the evening streets of Chattanooga

just as the streetlights begin to flicker on

it is this yellow thing, I don’t know the term

but her breasts pool out of the top

her cute belly stretches the center

and it makes her blue eyes-

behind clear frames

with stylized blood splatters on them-

even more maddening

we sit down for pizza at this worn brick place

next to an open concept venue

with a loud wedding reception

blasting the top 40 hits and slurred toasts

I’m practically drooling as she scans the menu

and the couple seated a few booths behind us

who she’s sure are watching and pointing

laughing at her

I turn and look at the boy

who can’t be more than 15

and when he catches my eye

I am appropriately stern

turning back I tell her she’s beautiful

and I say it stuttering and unable to look at her

because if I do for too long I might cry

because being here I’m sort of happy

and that would make things worse

we are keeping this as casual as possible

despite stopping ourselves

in the middle of complements

to stop something else from coming out

after pizza we return to her condo

the sky shot through with twinkling stars

her dogs asleep and tongues lolling

she slides her dress off slowly

stands in front of the sliding door to the balcony

looks at cars passing on the street below

and asks me if I mean it

when I say she’s beautiful

I say yes, forcing myself to look her in the eyes

when she turns with a face so expectant of hurt

and she asks me to say it again

to say it as many times as it takes

because she wants so badly to believe it.