Crushed

Another love/lust poem, but from the other side of things.

And this dry breeze with life here next to me

through a minute after the rain;

why does the sun

always feel so slow

in the afterglow...?

 

Then the condom reminder;

saggy satchle of leftover bliss,

for a moment under the blue silk wave,

but giggles gone,

only you too close:

'stay,' a croak voice says, 'under and inside us together...'

 

now find a word less painful than 'no'

and give it gently for the life here on the block;

chopping block, that is, where knives do the safety dance

all night long.

Reviews

[Gray C. Sweet]

I like this poem; referring to a condom as a 'soggy satchel' did make my stomach churn a bit, but disillusion seemed to be the intent- so well done