fateful nap of a stranger
A Friday evening from the sacred age: ten carefree hearts in communion with one another, sharing the bachelor life in this one bedroom apartment. Free from preceding authority and obligation, furniture and floor are flooded with the laughter of family, friend, and guest. Another knock; another arrival. Host to her home, bearing an unexpected gift -- fifty-nine inches of magnificence. A shy smile, an innocent glance. My ears collect the first note of that soft, comfortable rasp. Her tone of concern betrays the common outfit of the modern woman, her youthful frame hemming the effortless caregiver. An eldest child: a nurse, a mother hen. She plans nothing in claiming the empty chair; the will of something greater binds us together. A light rom-com to entertain, a pragmatic dimming of the lamps. Slowly, the long day weighs heavy on her sea-green eyes, the insignificant space contracting between untouched flesh. Subtle head upon an unsolicited shoulder, diving into profound rest. Rest indeed -- neither moving, neither disrupting. The credits roll, the house lights raise, and two strangers are gently face to face. She feigns shock and humiliation; I pardon the innocuous touch. A performance for the ages: I coyly sing to twenty ears, solely for the audience of two. Two ears know my song, my dance, and my core. Two eyes perceive their once foreign desire. One cool evening and one stranger. One ruined heart.
A Friday evening from the sacred age: ten carefree hearts in communion with one another, sharing the bachelor life in this one bedroom apartment. Free from preceding authority and obligation, furniture and floor are flooded with the laughter of family, friend, and guest. Another knock; another arrival. Host to her home, bearing an unexpected gift -- fifty-nine inches of magnificence. A shy smile, an innocent glance. My ears collect the first note of that soft, comfortable rasp. Her tone of concern betrays the common outfit of the modern woman, her youthful frame hemming the effortless caregiver. An eldest child: a nurse, a mother hen. She plans nothing in claiming the empty chair; the will of something greater binds us together. A light rom-com to entertain, a pragmatic dimming of the lamps. Slowly, the long day weighs heavy on her sea-green eyes, the insignificant space contracting between untouched flesh. Subtle head upon an unsolicited shoulder, diving into profound rest. Rest indeed -- neither moving, neither disrupting. The credits roll, the house lights raise, and two strangers are gently face to face. She feigns shock and humiliation; I pardon the innocuous touch. A performance for the ages: I coyly sing to twenty ears, solely for the audience of two. Two ears know my song, my dance, and my core. Two eyes perceive their once foreign desire. One cool evening and one stranger. One ruined heart.
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