Damned
When eyes lock,
she sits down quietly on the bed.
A subtle gesture. Words, there are none.
Her arms are strong, they open, they welcome, they smolder
like the black stillness of her eyes.
Glistening flesh, flashing above her garter.
She moves like a poem,
we are both so deathly open.
A climax, so soon (that damned week of anticipation).
She is the country I have been searching for;
the refuge.
She will not look at me after. I will not speak,
but
I will feel, I will wait
forever
Until I hear the many voices of her
call to me from the water.
My brow forever furrowed, shoulders tense
now and always.
I see her, I wait for her
return. Sleek creature that has no need to stalk.
Her prey is present. Something
tears in my chest
beneath the weight of her missing hands.
This is love.
I’ve never been so sure.
