When we began I was cold,
stiff-stiff, stone. No key crafted
well enough to turn open, no
flames high or wide enough to melt, no
breath of a wolf strong enough to blow
down, shake, or crumble my guard.
His candies and cards came
and I gave
only a slight smile in return,
sometimes a
"nice." Date’s money split because I
refused to owe him anything. But spending
time changed my mind. Soon I gave
back kisses, told feelings at night time on
the telephone. Opened that
room he was so eager
to get inside of-the one with the
brown, soft, wet-well,
well-draped mattress.
And he was the only one who
slept in it. He and I both know
it was a damn good mattress.
Loose became my body, my head
roaming every which way. No answers to
this thing that was so foreign to me.
Love.
No answers caused me to seek
browse through call logs, pick through
bags filled with dirty laundry, looking
for any hint of pink, of lace; phone
random numbers under names
that were, or that I thought
could pass for a female.
Any reason to pack up and find
repair for my broken
protector. Crazy me, I’ve done and said
all the things I was convinced I wouldn’t.
It was the revival of past incidents.
Pushing without knowing
and he stood there
Pushing till my Mr.-man for me,
loved by me, that I swear was made
for me-so much that my knees
became bruised from the
constant praying that his creator
keep this wonderful creation right
here-reached his edge. I was calling,
“come back.” I didn’t just want him;
I needed him. I called and I
called
Each time I called, the more it
hurt. Soon, my only hope was that he’d
return to help me gather the pieces of myself, which I
had given him so that I could
put it back together-my guard;
even thicker, even stronger
for whomever was next.