Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
She stands in the shower.
Running her wash cloth across
Her body.
the slow rise of *******,
the arch of hips,
the curve of a neck.
The day she's had
Swirls around the drain
Between the space of her toes.
All that's left is the smell of soap.
Against her skin.
Her washcloth is not as white as it was.
She lets out a sigh.
Letting the hot water crash
Against her body.
Ringing it out before 
Soaping up the rag again.
Her body becoming softer.
Erasing every touch, every stare
That isn't her own.
Vigorously scrubbing.
The remnants of soap drip
Down her legs.
I knock on the door before
Poking my head in to check on
Her.
She hangs her head out with a smile.
The smell of soap and water
Glisten off of her light skin.
Before she closes the curtain back,
I ask if she needs help washing her
Back
Kewayne Wadley Dec 2024
I’ve waited so long to talk to you.
I’ve messaged you and have waited
to hear back from you.
I am still waiting.
At this point, time isn’t a factor.
Even if I never hear anything,
I still will wait.

The closest I get to you now
is an algorithm.
Social media suggests you
as a new friend.
As much as I would love that—
to start over and pretend,
as painful as it sounds,
to love you in restriction,
trapped by some border,
like we’re strangers.

I stare at your picture and never
swipe the notification away.
In a way, it feels like old times.
The only thing missing is your voice.
You’re with me when I go to work,
you’re with me when I am in the car.
But nothing lasts forever.
By the time I wake up,
the notification is gone,
the screen is empty,
and you’re gone.

But your eyes—
the way that you smile—
have not left my memory.

I suppose I should be satisfied
with what I have now.
I’ve tried,
but I am not
Kewayne Wadley Sep 2024
Your voice forms the bricks
Of a well built home.
It holds in warmth on a hot day
And stores heat on the cold days.
Your voice is a shelter
One that thunderstorms should fear.
Regardless of strength.
Once it dissolves.
Embers of warmth
Still reside within the bricks.
When you speak,
I find that I am home.
A place I am whole.
A place I am safe.
I always know where you are.
Even with both eyes closed.
Between the mortar of bricks
I find your breath
And lay my head beside yours.
The walls a rich tapestry
Framed in communication,
Filled with your breath and pulse.
I live in your marrow.
My every forgotten dream
Rested and remembered.
Your voice forms the bricks
Of this well built home.
Reminding me
That love. Is not just a word
Stimulate me, not down there but here.... in my heart ♥
Stimulate my mind, my body will follow and my heart will stay

— The End —