One night of passion

by Maria Gornell

Fear and perfection
Got the better of me,
For him its easy
To simply walk away
One night of passion
The shape of my head
On pillow with leftover hair
He tore out in ecstasy?

It hasn’t happened yet
But I can visualise
The beat and drum
Of heart blazing
The thrash and bang
Of bedposts,
Sweat trickling from brow
Dirty words and intimacy
Corrupt and rotten to core.

I can see my eyes
Pleading for gentle
Touch caress
Kisses down my spine
Gasping as he enters me
My walls closing around
My waves of moans
Vibrating through walls
And then?
Will he climax selfishly
With one big empty grunt
Lie back grimacing
Light a fagg
Open a can of beer
Before murmuring
Something about
Servicing me like a
Washing machine.

I’ll lie awake
Watching him
With toxic tears
Running down
My thighs.
Unable to breathe
I’ll leave my smell
My shape of head
And dead hair
Walking out
Into the bitter
October sunshine.

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~ This piece was posted on Monday, October 27th, 2008 and was filed under Poetry, Writing. You can make comments on it below. ~