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#20 - why I don't date anymore
by Linda Fullerafter an evening of delicate thrust and parry
he invited me up to see his etch-a-sketch.
I murmured a demur but we both knew I didn’t mean it.
his apartment was impeccably decorated
but his parrot suffered from alopecia nervosa.
half a white wine later, he had me
on the faux bearskin, my bare skin glowing
in the light from the faux fire. a sense
of unreality gripped me, but he gripped harder.
later, in the afterglow of fauxnication
he drew elaborate apologies on the etch-a-sketch.
when he shook it to erase them, I disappeared.
01/20/2011 Author's Note: Poem-a-Day January 2011 #20
Posted on 01/21/2011
Copyright © 2025 Linda Fuller
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