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Poem

The sound of her touch still echoes. 
Each pearl snap exploding
down my chest. 
It was a controlled demolition of my conscience. 
I screamed as my palms slapped against the drywall. 
I knew it was; We were wrong for each other.
But, I was too weak to deflect the oncoming avalanche of
false promises and the tongue that scattered them
across my hungry body. 
It was too loud. Too Primal. 
Consequences were ghostly whispers underneath
the floorboard that we had begun to savagely trample.
Our slick skin thumping and writhing. 
Our bodies were kick drums playing to the beat
of a sinister harmony. 
Aglow in the fire of lust, loneliness casting its shadow. 
When it finally became quiet,
and the tile against our now frigid bodies too 
uncomfortable...
I was struck by her stealth.
By my shell-shocked haze.
The miasma that we had created.
There was no sound.
Not even as I watched her silhouette
gallop out of the door,
and it slammed shut. 
Even my thoughts struggled for breath.
As I considered telling the truth about
a night that should have never happened.
-James Kelley 2018

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