Joe's Friend

As soon as the door closed, he slipped his arm around my waist and i thrilled to the pressure of his hand on my hip.  but it's too soon, i thought.  he's just like joe.  i bet i could guess what happens next.  sure enough, he smiled at me and pulled me around in front of him, bending down to rest his forehead on mine. beautiful as ever but without depth in his eyes.  at least, not for me.

i smiled at him with a skeptical twist to the corner of my mouth.  i wondered if he even saw my raised eyebrow or recognized the knowing look in my steady gaze.  this is so familiar.  they are all the same.  in a heartbeat he was reaching for my lips.  the timing was perfect, executed with practiced smoothness.  my pulse quickened but my heart fell.  "stop," i said.

he hesitated and made a detour to nuzzle my neck as if that had been his intention all along.  i said, "don't do that unless you mean it."

he pulled back to look me in the eyes, maybe a little surprised.  i smiled at him without amusement, my body resting easily in his arms as bodies are wont to do.  "tell me you care about me beyond this moment, this pleasure."

"i'm just going with the flow," he protested, his eyes flitting between mine.  he was off balance, just a tad.  "you draw me in."

"but not for the long haul," i pushed, "though i'm interesting enough to play with.  admit it.  if you saw a future with me, you'd do this differently.  you'd invest.  its okay; i've used and been used before. i don't judge you, but you crossed the wrong woman tonight.  none of me is for you."

i paused for a moment after my surprisingly lucid monologue, giving him a moment to protest if he could.  my smile appeared a beat before he began.  he was too late.  "i don't play that game anymore," i said, "it's not a good game."  i pulled away from his body.  "have a good night."

Threads by Aniqa Moinuddin

You stitched my glaring wounds.
Bleeding dark and bleeding red.
I punctured my skin to let you in,
Pulled you close and wrapped you tight.
Only you could cease that flow
That bleeding gush of red and dark.

Now it's time to pull you out,
Through the skin that grew on you
A bloodied mess spread over you.
You stopped the pain; healed my wound
Yet now I have to let you go.

Scraping flesh and swimming blood
The last piece of you must be found
This numbing pain is all I dread -
I can't tell skin from thread.



thank you, dear roommate, for letting me post your poem on my blog.