Thursday, November 24, 2005


The first streaks of dawn altering the night sky
Yet the same glorious sensation
Beneath the weight of his body
I found I could not move
And with one urgent thrust he entered me
Then it was over.
I closed my eyes and thought with a smile that rape had occurred, not lovemaking.
Release my arms, please. There’s no need.
Am I cold?
A foolish question.
My life is cold.
For me, it’s always like that:
The slow unclasping of a fist,
you displayed a convincing ignorance
to my satiated eyes.
Would there never be an end to it,
to the almost penal servitude which his memory
demands of me?
My all patterned in damask and floral design inside
doesn’t feel able to find relief
I ease down into the elegant brass hipbath
Weary at dusk
No answer, I reach for the sponge
Relaxing in the tub
This life suits me very well
Allows me to fight off the loneliness
On thinking of the past
My heart seems to sit like a stone in my breast.

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