Sly Regrets
I lie on the bed
still tingling
from that love which penetrates
trying to decide if it is satisfaction
I feel
or slow-crawling humiliation.
Has this been my sacrifice,
my condemnation?
Each time it flows this way.
I hear you in the next room
and I am still thinking
as you return.
I take my smile and put it on.
Three dates and we seconds ago lay
in state;
was this the end or a beginning?
Unknown at this point.
I need to know
but cannot ask.
To ask would be to grab
the butterfly by the wings
and hope they don't break.
I look to you for clues;
your eyes,
but they are only staring blanks.
'You ok? You say.
My answer is mute.
My question un-askable.
You say again 'Are you ok. You look
a little pensive.'
Other times I would have left
and placed my cell phone
on vibrate
close to my heart;
wait the next few days
for you to call.
I would tell myself how silly
to bathe in this anxiety
to shower it away with
work and business.
But I know
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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