She used to be…
… but he’s not like that anymore.
Sex
Empty Sex Pt 2
Crystal beads cascade, drained
through the freshly bleached porcelain.
I expunging the sweet souvenirs of our sleepless night.
Sober from the water and the whirring extracting fan,
Here I dry, stood, stuck at you.
no longer clouded in ecstasy.
We dance flicking invites and excuses
days stepping forward and rear,
forte e piano.
In our immediacy we erupted
to spill but sparks upon damp wood.
A trudge toward a desirable goal .
I see you only
within digital screens,
devoid of an intimacy once tasted
And I wonder, to what precisely did I grasp?
*****
Link to Part 1:
It Should All Go Wrong Pt 1
It should all go wrong,
we met in a place of false fronts and lying selves.
A glossy lieu, with suave social personas
titivated to an idealised reality.
Vollies of double ticked messages passed
and through their shallow blue
we were born to each other, rosey eyed
unaware of each other’s face.
We encountered in an entent fragile,
in a room sombre,
scented sweet with amber ale;
our social devotion weak and optional.
J.C. FitzDerick 