A breif moment

of etiquette.

she sat

on the

bed with him,

uncertain of

the direction

their hearts

might take,


like reeds

by a lake

bending in

the wind

on a summer's

day.


lying

down to

fate could

possibly be

an option.


but he gazed

at her instead

and an empty

feeling came

over her.


and empty

moments piled

upon her one

by one  

by one.

and the

touch of

his hand

grew cold

and odd

almost unfamiliar,

and if there

was once

a passion there ,

but then

it past in

a moment

and quietly

died,

without so much

as a fight

in his eyes.

meanwhile

in the next

room

a couple

****** like

wild animals

and the groans

and the pounding

of the high

stilt bed

escaped into

her room and

intoxicated

the air.


and she

sat there

as if

it was a

misplace

twilight dream

and he sat

there.


not knowing what

to do. so

he did what

he did best

nothing.


she was only

26.

at 36 it might

of been a

whole

new situation.


of love perhaps

or wild animals

*******.


or both.

but she would

be the one

to chose,


not this

lost moment

not this

moment of

captive

lost innocence

that forever

will lie

cold against

her face.