A Life She’s Never Had

She reads about a life she’s never had;
Of men, romantic, focused, fully there –
And yearns with an intensity quite sad,
For all she’s wanted, but could never share

The man she married: forceful and intense.
It’s had its moments, some bad and some good;
But she knows now, he’s never really cared
To understand her needs or wants – nor could.

They never watch a movie that she’d like,
They are with his friends, if with friends at all;
He comes home with desire, late at night,
She is a sort of wifely booty call

But in these books, that he thinks silliness,
She finds the searching look, the soft caress;
The women there are loved by men, and more:
They’re not just someone he comes home
To score

8 Portraits, #6

Days and weeks of perpetual seduction.

We’d each been married before, and those disappointments fueled a mutual gratitude towards each other that made love stronger.

There were days and weeks of perpetual seduction, which I yielded to at every turn.

She lay stretched across the bed facing away from me as I came out of the shower. She said, “I have something for you.”

I asked her what that might be.

She said, “you’ve touched my spirit, and the body comes with it.”

I found little to complain about with that arrangement.

8 Portraits, #5

A certain rainy summer afternoon.

She knows the rain is coming
And it’s making her feel bad;
But seeing her in that outfit is
About to drive me mad

As she looks out the window
It just feeds my appetite;
And as I move to touch her
And I can tell that I’ve done right

Because we fall together,
And in a sort of haze
We make amazing night out of
The boringest of days

And many hours later,
With takeout at the door,
I dress to answer, seeing those
Black shorts upon the floor

And look at her in wonder,
As pretty as a painting,
And thankful that this afternoon
It happens to be
Raining

And Just Like That…


And just like that, the world gets flipped

And everything gets changed;

The certainties they thought they knew

Are mixed and rearranged.

 

It’s people being what they are,

Though we wish we were more —

And just like that, the pleasure starts

The grief that is

In store