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Love Affair

We were long into the summer
with the grass sweet and
the crabapples grainy and sour
on our pre-pubescent tongues.

The sun shadowed a clock onto
the street and it was time for food
and families.
That night I lay in bed with the
radio courting my dreams
while you slid into my friend's room and
seduced him to join you
in a world of make-believe,
helping him to get dressed;
pull those pants up around his neck
and tighten the belt.

The next afternoon, sweaty
from sunny summer play,
I was on the stairs when
Mother told me he had run away
with you. My knees went weak
like the time when little Suzie
kissed my cheek. I grabbed the
rail to steady as my breath
sucked in mucus and tears.

Later that evening, I lay awake
looking for you and day dreaming
of that belt slipping
around my neck, teasing me
with the caress of heat
offered from a soft whisper
against my skin, sending shivers
through my mourning flesh.

I saw you then for the first time
in your black veil and funeral dress,
your beauty unmatched by my naive trials.
You called to me to be with you
and see my friend again.
I wanted to go. I really did.
But I was a child full
of the fear that god would reject
my soul. I pulled the sheets over
my head to quiet the cries, all the while
hoping that sleep would steal my breath.

It wasn't fair. I wanted to go, too.
I wanted you to seduce me.

It would seem that Summer
had become your mating
the sun rising on
another solstice,
barely able to cast
a shadow
on my chin

as, once again,
you lifted your black skirt
and led another
to your astral plane.

His eulogy was nothing
short of plagiarism;
a capturing of words
once meant to comfort
now fell from the sky
like birds whose wings

were dipped in the wax
of hell's

I laid in wait
for you
that night,

my hands folded
in a casket


ready to receive
and cup the bottle
of pills
like it was my last
of water.

I imagined your touch;
the tiny beads of death
sticking to my palms
in a nervous sweat;
if your


would be soft and sweat
like Summer's
if they would quiver
with anticipation
as the pills passed
over mine own.

But the sorrow I shed
that night
was not for my friend.

did not come;
stood me up

and once

It wasn't fair. I wanted to go, too.
I wanted you to seduce me.

The loneliness of that night
wrote love's number
on the back of my hand
and then taxied her


like the sweet blonde
in the back seat
of that car,
locking eyes with me,
as distance swirled
into a ghost
with no haunt


a stalker
in the making
trying to hold feelings together
with air

while you shacked up
with Mother Nature
to lure my friend into the Winters night



but the alcohol
in his veins. You were real


vivid, sexy, alluring
my teenage confusion hustled the night
your fingers to embrace my throat.

My parents
the elders said to scorn you
and my friends,
my dead friends
said I should lay with you

as they had

And still I am alone

It wasn't fair. I wanted to go, too.
I wanted you to seduce me.

For a moment you began
to fade
like paper in fire,
black dust blending away
into the breath of night.

Not that I didn't think
of you.
I had just found other
explorations that denied
faith and
self and

I wasn't happy.

I wasn't sad.

I wasn't anything
other than

So I didn't notice when you began courting
your next beau. Ignored you
as you led him,
past the crabapple trees and Summer fields swaying
to a private afternoon on his

when you would offer
what was left of your virtue,

boil his lust to a craze
like a mutt gone rabid,
foaming and glassy-eyed,

for the moon to appear
because the sun burns with a rage
masquerading as passion

that builds within...
builds within...
builds until he concedes
to pulling his own trigger as you whisper a bullet in his ear,

spray painting graffiti across his bedroom wall.

I ran to the noise,
got there just in time to read the words

"" sliding down the wall.

I was numb - beyond numb.
I may as well have been a vial of morphine
killing pain I never knew could exist.

He loved you
or did he love his parents? his brother? girlfriend?

me? He was never
going to answer those questions.

I found myself alone


It wasn't fair. I wanted to go, too.
I wanted you to seduce me.

I missed them
missed them all
I missed you
missed you most of all
awaited your next visit
like a child chasing their birthday
blowing out that candle
wishing for you to come and take me.

I had never wanted
until I wanted you.
Now I invented time
just so I could think about you
carved the words "i love you"
into my wrists
All the while hating you
for fucking my friends
and not me.

Why wasn't I good enough for you?


No, I take that back! Please,
let me take that back.
I didn't mean it...but I did.
It must have hurt you
because you left another
like a branch broken in the wind
swaying until it falls
and decays
six feet into the ground.

I'm sorry.
I just wanted to be with you,
be with them,
be something

other than alone.

It wasn't fair. I wanted to go, too.
I wanted you to seduce me.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
This is the first portion of a poem in the works. I wanted to get some thoughts before I got in too deep. Thank in advance for your time. Part 2 is a continuation of the poem. Let me know your thoughts. Thanks Part 3 is now posted.
Editing stage: 


It has different faces.This one's the most cruel.

There was inner consistancy until.."I saw you in the black veil."
I thought any reader would like to know how and why unless you are revealing this on a later stage as you're saying this is a first stage...
Looking forward to reading the next portion.

Thanks for sharing Scott.


Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Follow me

my friend died in s2. that line was merely starting to describe the subject of the "affair".

I haven't written in a while. How is the wiring?




author comment

A haunting well written piece, that certainly tugs the heartstrings. Regards Roscoe..

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

Thanks for taking the time to stop by. Always value your opinion.



author comment


Read this several times...there was something intriguing in it. The ambiguity is the hook. Felt it had sexual overtones and like Rula's comment, need the 'funeral dress' explaining.

Ells :)

The love affair in the story is with death (specifically suicide). S1 sets the scene. The end of S2 details the suicide. S3 describes the friend being told about the death. S4 describes the initial temptations of the affair. S5 begins the conflict.

Hope I explained it well enough. Ells, appreciate you stopping by and taking the time to comment.



author comment

I think the line started with" while you slid...."
is a tricky line. It misled me, but everything else is really great, especially the metaphor all through


Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Follow me

Sorry, that part was intentional in an effort to "humanize" death.


author comment

This is a sign of something original...good work.

Ells :)

Thanks Ell


author comment

Parts 2 through 4 are now posted. Look forward to your thoughts.




author comment

I posted the complete version (6 parts) in Storytelling Workshop if any care to comment on it in entirety. It is still a first draft.




author comment
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