Damselfly

a combined forty-eight years experience

in romantic inexperience.

a new girl

with a new throat.

she handed me

the clandestine candle.

an awkward apathy,

a cool anxiety.

life has suggested

friendship first,

sex second.

but i don't force small talk.

i silently question

her prescription to indifference

and hope no one caught me

laughing at myself.

we've met before.

i grew a beard since then, so...

besides,

you were busy counting stars that died

100 million years ago

at a distance proportional of the last time

you felt content.

i know that beat.

a pearl of sweet insouciance

is sliding down your leg, 

dripping from the hem

of your dress.

yet your mind is weary

with indignation to what is.

i would take you home

provided we amble, gab and gamble,

all while we second and third guess

our intentions for each other.

oh, she writes?

of course she does.

Reviews

[Jonhoi Vaughn]

This is the talent that I never expected from you. The quiet analysis and the frank yet complex ambiguity that you highlight in the inner man is rated "R" for "Real"! You know where you want to go and you've ushered me to a place where I can identify with this on several terrifying levels. Good write!

[Jason Henry]

thanks for reassuring me that this was actually good. i started to doubt myself.