National Poetry Month Post 2

[ellenhopkins]

One stunning June evening

the sky beaded gold like Versace

we lingered beneath the glitter

and opened ourselves to madness.

You were lonely, without the one who’d left you.

I was empty, despite the one who had stayed.

We were only going to talk, confess secrets,

buoy the weight from our hearts, but a splash

of  honeysuckle breeze lifted my hair

and brought my nipples taut beneath a blush of silk.

You kissed me, tentative as desert rain.

I kissed you back, monsoon.

No thought to passersby, we shed

our clothes like snakeskin, inch by shuddering

inch, taking pleasure in the slow abandon

of denim, satin and tenuous morality.

You pulled me down into a nest of summer grass.

I blazed the length of your body.

Desire pulsed like moon-teased surf, salty

waves of need so great we fought

against the cresting, fought to keep from drowning

in the aftermath.

You asked for promises not mine to give.

I begged for stolen moments.

I had nothing more to offer, but you wanted all

or nothing. I need forever love, you said, not stolen

moments, even moments

such as these.

You tugged me, naked, to my feet. Walked away.

I could only watch you go.

I saw you today, hand in hand

with your new forever love. You glanced

my way and I saw frozen in your eyes

yesterday’s stark sadness. I wondered if you ever

think back to our Versace night and quench yourself,

as I do, with remembered thirst.

Ellen Hopkins