1:23 Pm
Dragging his fingers across the inside of my wrist,
Studying the horizontal mental lacerations,
Stuck in my unbreakable enchantment
Correcting the problems of pass quarries.
Right before the clock stuck1:23pm.
Making my body relinquish,
Aching promises,
Two and three syllables cries of beseachment,
Hand cuffing operatic moans.
The feeling of riding up and down a steep hill,
Pleading with you to never leave me,
Touching my hair,
Locking eyes with what you stole,
“And you’d say; I’m not going anywhere”.
You know what to say,
You knew what to do to get me through,
To get me off on you,
A convincing conversation,
To let me know,
You care for this thing we got going.
Blue skies, sunshine, rainbows and wind chimes,
I can see in closed windows,
Lying on your chest,
Feeling confident enough to believe what seemed real.
But, at 1:23pm your cell phone rang,
Interrupting your temporary pacification,
And I began to fall,
I could see pass the strong hold,
To hear her voice on the other end of the line.
Muffled sounds, and a train passing,
I lie naked and still, refusing to breathe,
Recording every one of your notions,
As you rush to get dress.
Those “Minute Man” abilities,
Time stood still on 1:23pm,
Approaching my front door,
Remembering to kiss me goodbye.
Obviously entrapped in a cellular tryst,
You ran back up stairs,
To throw a token of affection at me,
Squatting low to pitch it,
When the sultry voice,
Confessed your social interaction with,
With four little words.
(“I Love You, Baby...”)
Copyright © Tanine Graham | Year Posted 2009
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