Fling

He stole her
Without a name.
The science of attraction
Is not so particular.

They ended up
Two loosely decorated
Bodies
Flat against kitchen tile
Without a word
Between them
To ease their union.

She understood,
In a vague way,
The reality of it all.
We are lonely creatures,
Temporarily engaged,
Temporarily fascinated
By the curves
And freckles
And sweat.

At this point,
Communication is
The surest path
To demise.
She’ll have to
Feign slumber,
Catch brief impressions
Of him
With one eye shut,
Attempt to read the language
of a body in deep sleep.

She’ll have to wait
and see
if words arise with him
to greet her in the morning.

© Shea Depmore
Steal money.. not words.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s