Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2019
She likes to sleep late in the
afternoon, surpassing even me
and she wakes up a little groggy
and lays in bed and her coffee is a good
doze of browsing on her smartphone
which she lets charging all the short night

And then, when she's had enough
she smiles at me and puts her
phone aside and asks a
Would you rather question

And today's question was
"Would you rather **** a guy or
your own mother?"

"What?" I said. "Where did you find
that one?"

She said, "I made it up. So what's your
answer?"

"****, what would be yours?"

She thought for a bit. "Hehe, it'll have to be
changed a bit for me, no?"

"Yeah," I said. "So would you rather ****
your own dad or another girl?"

"It's a bit unfair," she said, "isn't it?
I mean, for boys. Me, I could easily
do either, hehe."

"Easily?"

"I already pretend you're my
daddy when we do it, don't I?"

"I though it's just a thing girls do."

"That's what they say."

"Well ****, so you sayin' you'd like
me even more if I resembled your
father more?"

"Aw, forget it. Just answer the question."

"If I beat you and kicked you out of the
house, like you said he did, would you
love me more?"

"Forget. It." she said. "Just answer my question."

"You answer mine first," I said.

And she though for a little longer and
though and thought about it
and checked her phone briefly and
finally said, "You know what, let's drop
both at once. What you want for breakfast?"

"I ate while you were sleeping," I said.

"Oh, well, where's the ashtray?"

"There's still some waffles from yesterday's
pack," I said. "And cream."

"Sounds fine. Can I have some in bed?"

"There's coffee too if you come to the
kitchen."

"Wow, you know how to bargain,
don't you?"

"Unlike your daddy you mean? Heard
he was fired last week. What's he
doing now?"

She gave a brief shake of her head
and got out of bed in her *******
stopped by me, kissed my cheek and
whispered in my ear, "Let's. Drop. It.
Okay?"

I said nothing
and she went to the bathroom.
When she came back the coffee
was ready and her ashtray was
on the table.
Her eyes didn't leave the
phone as she sat down.
Bogdan Dragos
Written by
Bogdan Dragos  M
(M)   
87
     N and shadowedsilhouette
Please log in to view and add comments on poems