She was young
to young for me
they said
but she didn't think so
and who could question her big brown eyes
certainly not I
we walked the streets of Frisco
in the rain
holding hands and jumping puddles
we drank
a cup of hot chocolate
as she brushed her long brown hair
her Nubian breasts
dancing in the dim light
for me to share
and then a sip
of only a coke
from a champagne glass
a touch
her nipples so firm
her body so warm
and then the kiss
a hug
and she held me so tight
a promise had been made
that we would not
make love on that night
we fell asleep
in each others arms
to wake to a promise that had not been broken
a morning breakfast
a shower
and then she wept
a morning breakfast
a shower
and then she wept
we walked the pathways of the park
in the rain
holding hands and jumping puddles
she boarded the train with tears in her eyes
a sharp pain entered my heart
a sharp pain entered my heart
were they tears for my gallantry
or was she crying because
I was not the man
she wanted me to be
gs batty/april 2012
learning about love
How did I miss this one? So poignant! I too have stories like this stored away somewhere from long ago, chance encounters that will always leave us wondering what was, and what might have been. You write with such a tenderness and emotion, the tone was perfect!
ReplyDeleteJosie
Deleteyou always say the things that make my head grow but I do appreciate your compliment.
Beautifully written and a touch sad.
ReplyDeletealways appreciate a compliment from a writer as well read as you are.
DeleteThat's what comes of being a gentleman, I'm afraid. Happened to me with what would have been the love of my life. Ah! Well!
ReplyDeleteit's interesting how some of our pasts are so similar
DeleteCould it be both..the switch between the carefree walk in Frisco to the weight of the world which in some form or another seems to follow us forever made this piece all the more powerful..j says stick to dogs..faithful..unconditional love..(with limits of course).. ;)
ReplyDeleteand certainly that is what I have learned in my old age
Deletea beautiful story... those puddles, holding it together...
ReplyDeletethanks Abigail...love that hat
DeleteBeautifully written, sad story.
ReplyDeletethanks F M appreciate your visit and the compliment.
DeleteI hope this is fiction or else you will be beating your head against the wall for years to come. I too yearn over those lost loves but they are not so valuable as the ones I found.
ReplyDeleteno, Mr. Egg, it is a true piece of my younger years...and looking back...no regrets.
DeleteVery poignant. Many of us have suffered these 'traumas', especially during our teenage years. But they are worth remembering, if only for the feeling of loss they evoke.
ReplyDeleteSo tender, raw and heart-breaking, beautifully done
ReplyDeleteThis is lovely and you are a real gentleman.
ReplyDeleteI really love the stanza...
ReplyDelete"hre Nubian breasts..."
I wonder if anything was really learned?