Image by Foundry Co from Pixabay
Aftermath (How not to Declare Love)
Allow her to drift back into blissful slumber
next to you
even after she gently tugged you
from your own dreams
to indulge in her fragrant valley
for the second time that night
long before the glow
of the very first time
you urgently knotted yourselves
had dissipated.
Sitting up in her bed,
with moonlight kissing her skin
where you had also done twice-over,
observe her naked breast
rise and fall
in melodic peace
as she
begins adding snores to
the composition of frogs outside
singing for their own
companionship.
Reminisce about two months earlier,
when random chaos
compelled your collision with this woman
whose smile gained a foothold,
whose laughter melted your guard,
whose eyes conspired with your own,
creating a micro-language,
with syntax known only to two.
Resist,
as much as you are able,
the persistent feeling that
even if this woman
is not to be yours forever,
so be it,
for some part of you
will always belong to her,
no matter how much you
rage against
this peculiar sensation
while simultaneously
flirting with abandon
to gain her favor,
knowing that in some way,
she also fails to resist her own
internal battle
as she is drawn to you.
Believe the lie,
with all your heart,
that you must stay the night,
for it is too dangerous to be
on the road alone
at this ungodly hour.
Accept the backrub,
for you are indeed tense.
When she kisses your bare shoulder,
your neck,
gently turning your head to kiss your cheek,
offer your lips,
for it is only polite
to accommodate a host
who holds your next breath
within her breast.
Allow what is occurring naturally to happen,
and then allow it to happen a second time.
Return to the moonlit moment
as she sleeps peacefully in the aftermath
mess-of-afterglow
you both created.
Overwhelmed by unwanted emotion
that has always been a persistent companion
to her captivating charisma,
nuzzle your naked frame into hers,
holding her close
as if you could grasp and own this moment
forever,
and whisper into her ear
the inexplicable truth
part of you wishes was a lie;
“I love you.
I don’t know why or how,
but I do.
“Perhaps I always have;
certainly, I always will,
but I do love you.”
Watch in muted horror
as her snoring stops suddenly.
Sigh in relief,
once her snoring resumes.
Add your snores to hers.
Awaken to a new day as if nothing happened,
for after all, this is just a casual encounter;
just a “friends with benefits” thing.
After all,
feelings are for suckas,
right?
In fact,
once she drops you off at work,
don’t even lean-in
for a goodbye kiss.
But do pause before leaving her car,
as she has just said your name
and tugged at your sleeve
to gain your attention
(as if that were ever in question).
Allow the goosebumps
to infiltrate your skin
as she kisses your cheek,
and when she turns your head,
offer your lips,
for it is only polite
to kiss the one who
offered you a ride to work
after claiming your body, soul,
and dome the night before.
Try not to react,
even as your heart
leaps from your chest
when she tells you,
“Oh, by the way; I love you too.”
***
Written for NaPoWriMo’s Day 1 prompt; write an instructional how-to (or how not-to) poem.
Hephaestus’ Waste & Cosmic Rubble 