Thursday, May 26, 2011

Friends, Lovers or Nothing

she sits--
amidst the rumpled bedclothes--
she sits
and waits

her hair a jumbled brown tangle
roughed up from the friction--
from the sheets and his skin and his hands--
her cheeks slightly rosy,
complexion dewy, that perfect blend of porcelain and flush

she sits--
her pale hands nervous,
her delicate fingers with the nails painted plum--picking anxiously,
anxiously at the sheets,
twisting themselves in the 600 count cotton--
she sits
and waits

the door creaks--
she bites her lips,
her pulse thudding loudly in her ears,
she strains for a reassuring glimpse of his shadow--
and sees it in the doorway
she breathes a sigh of relief

he enters the room,
and as always, she is amazed--
how could someone, so perfect, so beautiful,
how could someone as marvelous as him
see something so marvelous in someone like her--
she marvels in the absurdity

tall, strong, masculine, blonde
she allows herself one hedonistic moment
one selfish moment to just stare shamelessly and drink him in--
her turquoise eyes meet his, and she feels a splash of warmth across her cheeks
the smoldering intensity behind those ocean eyes makes her heart race

this isn't love--it can't be,
she insists
purely lust, unrestrained and running wild and free
and yet, what else could it be?
how else could she even begin to explain how he seemed to occupy so much of her mind?

she sits--
amidst the rumpled bedclothes,
aching, yearning,
she sits
and chides herself as nothing more than a fool
she sits, and she waits--

he sits then, on the edge of the bed,
flashes her one of his trademarked smiles--
crooked and boyish
playful, yet purely seductive
maddening yet utterly heart stuttering--
leans towards her, and envelops her in a crushing hug
she closes her eyes, and much like an addict, breathes him in

he lets go, without the words she longs to hear
reaching down to the floor to pick up his jeans
and he puts them on, making some joke about something trivial, insignificant--
and she laughs, though her heart falls to the floor

she quickly dresses, folding up her feelings deep inside herself
while he steps outside to have a smoke
and as the door closes, she lets her head fall into her hands
and allows herself one controlled moment to break into a trillion jagged little pieces--
before he comes back and she has to exude cool indifference

she sits--
on the edge of his king sized bed,
her legs tangled in the tumult of sheets,
she sits, she waits,
but for that briefest flicker of moments,
she isn't quite sure--

--"friends with benefits", 05/25/2011.

1 comment:

  1. Sounds like she should have been up and out of there instead of drowning in her own expectations.

    nicely done...
    have a fabulous week

    When the spirit moves yah, take a gander at my poetry and share your thoughts on what you read....its always great to get another view on things.

    take care..


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