If there were a script for this,
I would be well-rehearsed by now.

Scene: Afternoon (but still in bed).
Interior. Your room. Clothing optional.

Those quaking morning muscles,
mind contracting, making patterns.

Stretching, I reach out to touch
the skin of your back.

You, cool as ever, roll over and shoot me
one of those smiles.

The ones I got used to getting
instead of real smiles.

We're well-oiled machines, both,
and we're getting ready for game day.

Ten. Fifteen minutes, stark silence;
I missed my line. I blink, "You OK?"

"Sure." Cool as ever.
We were built for this.

Would that a relationship could stand
on the strength of it's dissolution.

"I don't want you to hate me."
"I don't."

"I don't want to be with you."
"You're not."

File it for future use. You never know
when you'll need a good script.

10/03/2012

Author's Note: Alternate title: "Same Shit, Different Girl."

Posted on 10/04/2012
Copyright © 2024 Jason Wardell