“The morning after”
The real story was the morning after
In the hall walking past her
Avoiding eyes. Well, she avoided mines
Still poised, though; Pinewood in stormy tide
I was fine. Of course i’m fine…
Sort of.
Just drifting in thoughts.
Breakfast, a course of rye, juice and side of hogs
Both, preoccupied; trying to find that dialogue
the perfect kind. Still, no sights were crossed.
Examining our toasts as silence shared its note.
Slightly burnt around the edges.
It's done. Too done. Scraping for tender tones.
“Do u want some more?” I asked.
“No thank you, I’m full”
oh gawd that’s the best I could offer?!
As music turns.
Amusing...it burns
Anxious. my angst just ...
unmoving. Unphased, unheard, impatient
her face...blank slate
Tank top sweat threading that chest plate
Chest heavy breath caving in
You were always punctual
But today ur punctuation was late
something strange with the way
You avoided my gaze
Is it a boy? I said?
Is it a boy?
That long delay, though.
Awkward silence. Still guessing if it’s of joy or of pain
Or some sort of ploy to Gain
Advantage. Lost in this vantage point
10.2’ partition glasses. At least there’s no awkwardness.
Though the silence is there eyes on me.
Most are of external force, a few are my own
Finances commitment. Love?
I wouldn’t call it they. No flowers no doves
Just to crazy kids
Two crazy kids
At later stages of bliss
Holding hands conversations, kisses
Open legs and scrimmage
Til we create an image
Researching pages and visits
Aches and pains remission
The scream of anguish, wishing
For more self control, dismissing
It’s all contingent on all that’s missing
__________________
I remember the poplar trees
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