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Nov 2012
After making love we hear footsteps,
Quiet patter of bare feet on the finished oak floor makes us freeze.
No more after-the-act pillow talk.
I feel her skin prickle with fearful goosebumps, her breath catch in her chest.
Her husband doesn’t know.
As the slow beat of our hearts becomes erratic,
They stop.
Silence.
The door creaks as its pushed open
Ever. So. Slowly,
Making me think of a bad horror movie.
The greyblue sheets whisper
Over our sweat damp skin as she clutches them to her *******;
Her impenetrable shield, leaving me cold and exposed.
I want to hide.
Every atom in my body screams at me to do so.
But I lay here, waiting for the creeping door to reveal the intruder.
I listen to her whimper as he looks over us, sprawled across the bed.
His eyes, her husband’s eyes,
Are pinned on me and his face is flushed
I assume with anger as he stalks towards me,
Reaches for me.
The bed sinks as he leans over me,
Not saying a word.
MoMo
Written by
MoMo
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