i loved your stretch marks
just above the crease of your thigh meets belly
pastel painted, light beige on tan
soft supple skin
i nibbled your earlobes
delighting in sucking air
through your empty piercings
you laughed and told me to stop
though it was always the first thing i did
you smiled and picked the strawberries off my back
put your popsicle toes between my nicely warm knees
woke me gently at 3 a.m. with your erotic sleepless cravings
that was then
something, now, I do not know
unfulfilled
we’re no good anymore
each for each
if i am not what you want
then leave me now
let me not shrivel you
it’s such a waste
i will miss you some
i dream of some soul that wants me
i am tired unto death
of living the life of your disapproval
if, every day, i am not enough,
why do you cling
as if i were one of those stunted milkweed pods
dried up, wrinkled, and never to open
The two opposites of a married life – you’ve penned it so well. Some phrases, like posicle toes, and if everyday I’m not enough, are going to stay with me for a long long time.
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The undulations of life. The older we get the more they accentuate.
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The first half of this is so beautiful, sensual. The 2nd half so sad…
Wonderfully penned.
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