The instant you stopped shouting at me,
calling me unbearable names,
reducing me to, “a cold cunt,”
and, “a lesbian diva,”
and, “a conniving slut.”
Our faces in the half-light of the kitchen
tears smearing our make up.
The instant you shouted, already half
way out the door, that you would never be back
I was already missing you more
than I thought it possible to miss anyone.
I turned every light in the house off and sat in your chair.
I held your sweater, weeping into its softness.
I waited– I had no other choice.
How long I waited I cannot say.
Darkness blanketed the room,
when I heard you swear, fumbling with your keys
“Aw fuck,” the door opened– even in silhouette
I saw you fully. I stood up,
you came, you ran to me,
your face unseen,
your soft hands
smooth over my shirt,
then under, pulling at my nipples.
I undid your shirt and cupped your cool breasts,
your wet tongue traced the contours of my face,
then slid over my neck…into my mouth,
my tongue twisted up with yours.
We held each other, your hands grabbed my ass
and I crushed into you, pressing my pussy into yours,
hissing and cooing, your fingers slid into my panties–
you entered me, not in anger,
but with forgiveness and grace.
Your tears on my cheeks as we kissed,
as your thumb devastated my clit, and I was yours again.
My will broke into a thousand pieces
And it was new again. My tears stung my eyes:
my ‘bottom of the well tears’! And I came once more
in your arms, trembling like a moth at the flame.
Then I heard from deep within you, a low moan.
Not a sound of pleasure, but an utterance of pain.
You slumped into me, spent of hate and of love,
and I held you up, as we stumbled through the dark together
and collapsed onto our bed.
.
