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.