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Come here, 2011.

What color are 2011’s eyes?

Dark and fiery, like roasted coffee beans soaked in Sambuca liquor.

And what kind of face does the year put forth?

A brave face. Weathered, but handsome all the same. Fine wrinkles here and there. It’s earned its dues. It isn’t the face of a child, no. This face has battled the elements. This face has got some mileage on it.

And its mouth? Does this year promise supple lips and bubble gum breath?

No, this year won’t kiss you on the mouth. At least, not until you’ve given yourself to it.

What kind of lover is 2011 then?

The kind of lover who rips your clothes off, breathing insanely erotic words into your ear, and then, takes a phone call.

Will you throw your shoe at it and walk away? Or will you lay back, light a cigarette and wait for it?

Who knows, this year may surprise you.

Good bye broken-hearted, blue-eyed 2010.

2011 is here.

This year is high maintenance. This year doesn’t have time for complaints. This year knows what it wants and how to get it from you.

Now, all you need to do, is make this year come, and then go.

And maybe then, you’ll be happy once more.

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About Mel

Montreal queer fiction writer.

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