goddess in a little black dress
[from a second wave – poetry]
home is what remains after our youth has passed
your beauty shines beyond what i can see
i have hungered for your voice, your lips, your smell
as you wrap words around my mind
hands around my hands
hunger into my flames into a blaze
if i wanted a model i would need a lot more money
and after it’s all been stripped away
a pretty face is also a burden
it’s not what i’m after, this youthful body
but the lust is primal, real, raw, and awakened by you
this is what is important
energy to build on, hopes to fan the flames
a deep black nothingness that i fall into
without fear or clutching
let’s release the drug
that brings
everything
in
to
this
one
moment
it’s not what you look like, exactly
it’s what you feel like
how you playfully tear back the boundaries
aware of your power and unafraid
to sear us raw, blasted, exhausted, still
i know not what i ask for
it is the stuff of dreams
and magazine covers in checkout lines
and still
any breast will do, any heart beneath that is ready to open
any now
could be the time
you appear
6-13-14
image: moran atías, creative commons usage
Losing the Little Black Dress and Losing Touch
My ex-y was not a tennis player. She was a natural athlete who could’ve played tennis, but it wasn’t her thing. That’s fine.
We used to joke about how she liked tennis most for the cute dresses and skirts. Me too!
There was a moment, several months before she asked for a divorce when she had agreed to play tennis with me and the kids. I had recently encouraged her to buy a cute black skirt at the pro shop. And I specifically recall following my wife on to the court. I was looking at her nice legs and the sexy black skirt. And thinking, wow, she’s beautiful but not much chance of making love to her any time soon. She was always angry. I don’t know what that does to a woman’s libido, but I sure know what it was doing to my love life.
I remember noticing a woman playing three courts over, through two chainlink fences, and she was more enticing than my beautiful wife, right in front of me. How sad.
I had been testing an assumption I had about how much of the closeness I generated. How I was usually the one who engaged in gregarious touch, whimsical affection, spontaneous compliments. When I stopped generating the closeness in our relationship, when I stopped reaching out, there was nothing. And it wasn’t just when she was actually mad at me about something. It was simply a general fact, and maybe one that I had overlooked and compensated for many years, but she wasn’t that good at closeness.
I’m not sure if she was ever as much into touch as I was. But when I stopped the casual reaching for her, there was nothing. And what an odd moment, following my beautiful wife onto the tennis court, a dream fulfilled and being more interested in someone 40 yards away.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
related posts:
- Sex Rules: The Frequency, the Fun, and the Fantasy
- Relationships and Dating Are A Bit Like Space Travel
- Blinding Desire
- Learning About “I Need You” vs. “I Want You”
- The Taste of Tail Feathers Again
resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
