Ivan Donn Carswell
No, she said, I never knew it was your first. It doesn’t
matter anyway. I always had an inkling that we’d find
a way. And then we did. I’m glad about it just for that.
Whether it was good or bad, or would have happened
had we made a pact or that it should have happened
years ago won’t alter facts; it was meant to happen,
and it did, and that is that.
His ego shattered in those straightforward words,
it was absurd, for years he’d suffered his attraction,
never guessed she shared a common thread,
and when it happened she had said it hadn’t mattered.
She recognised his sadness, smiled and hugged
him close, I always liked you best because you held
to every word I said, your soft grey eyes would
stroke my face and never stray, your hands caressed
my hands and drifted just a bit towards my breasts,
and if your thoughts were centred in my pants I knew
of your respect before I felt the hotness of your breath.
What occurred just now is but a lusty cup of sugared tea,
it does refresh, but once the cup is drained for me there’s
nothing left to keep except regrets, and leave. If it was
your first it was the very best but be assured, I know I need
you here to hold my hands, to listen and reflect,
to softly talk to me in soothing, sweetened words.
© I.D. Carswell