Sleeping with the Enemy or The Night I made Love to a Beautiful Woman

By Dylan Przygocki

Gurl, you slipped the knife from my chest, but not until the moment I told you I loved you,
and when I heard the whisper that you loved me back, I knew there would be no more secret note passing or playing hookey in the halls to catch a glimpse of the rainbow that walked between us when you smiled.
I touched the redwater that poured like Jesus from my side and breathed my life into your bones.
Like lye, your thoughts burned my tongue, but my sticky life sap tasted like the ore of our mother’s heart left to dry in the moonlight.
And yes, I howled then.
And when the ocean rolled in your belly like our child would turn in his sleep, I knew we could not burn these bridges.
I forgot it would all be okay.
I stared down at the crimson puddle you made of me, and I smiled.
For the first time.
You would see me from the inside.
And we would walk with the darkness at our backs and a thunderstorm at our feet.
When my fingers grazed your skin, I felt your warmth resonate from inside my eyes.
We played simple games in those days:
Where is the best thought?
How many times will we feel like no one matters?
if everyone were happy now, where would that leave us,
the ones who only feel the world’s pain?
But they always had an answer.
And I don’t believe in fate, but when everyone says the same thing is it equal to the truth?
But when we found ourselves dreaming of eachother’s arms, how could we let another’s restrain our faith?

And when the sea and sky breathe in unison, why are there still only questions?

Categories: Issue 5, Poetry | Leave a comment

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