After burn

Ships in the night?

The flick of a switch.
 Random and unexpected.
 Sadness engulfs me towards the end
 of what seemed on the surface
 to be a pleasant enough evening.
 Maybe just not ready for it - 
 the idle banter; 
 the flutter of eyelashes; 
 pushing the flirting overdrive.

Suddenly need comforting.
 What is wrong with this picture?
 I should be over the grief. 
 Subtle reminders 
 leave me cold and frightened.

I am torn between seeking comfort
 with a friend I trust
 or riding the grief alone.
 He is there
 and seems willing
 to let me depend on him.

The flick of a switch.
 Accidental and sudden.
 The moment I hold his hand
 our fingers intertwine.

A snapshot moment of intimacy.

I do not mean to make anything of it
 but his warmth washes over me.
The tender blanket of his strong arms, 
 hands stroking to soothe me 
 and drive away my sadness.

The flick of a switch.
 Casual and bewildering. 
 In an instant I need to feel his skin.
 It is a different feeling to wanting him. 
 It is like a natural extension
 of familiar comfort that I crave.

Will it serve that purpose? 
 It is a fine line between wanting 
 and needing this intimacy.

The moment comes and goes.

The flick of a switch. 
 Inspired yet unsatisfied. 
 We are back in a world of normal.
 I am relaxed that moments like these 
 should have no regret in them.

And I wish that 
 the after burn of my grief 
 is not what drove the moment.

lost in the fog?
Show your support

Clapping shows how much you appreciated Cristina Archer’s story.