This is what I forgot
I make things intimate
Putting my hand on a man’s face
A man’s neck
I like the feeling of feeling him
Without fail he closes his eyes
I imagine the only thing on his mind is the touch of my skin on his
The weight and tremor of my hand
I think he is content
I’m fulfilling some need he has
Some need I have
When he reciprocates I gasp and sigh simultaneously
I hope it’s not noticeable
I haven’t forgotten
I never knew he might like the feeling of feeling me
Ramblings of a Medicated Lady: Words of Woe by Loria Taylor 
3 comments
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June 4, 2009 at 1:01 pm
valbrussell
This is tender. Medicated lady, you’ve been hiding this talent and I hope you write more like this. This line: The weight and tremor of my hand says so much with little detail. You choose words so accurately and with ease and I envy that.
June 5, 2009 at 1:52 pm
S.L. Corsua
Now this is intimacy that is contagious, in a feel-good way (no pun intended). (grin) It really is tender, all about relishing the moment. Cheers. 😉
June 6, 2009 at 9:05 am
medicatedlady
I keep coming back to your comments, val and s.l. These sorts of sentiments do not show themselves much in my poetry because I don’t feel them often in real life. I appreciate your thoughts.
My writing tends to be raw and even brash…this one felt raw but sentimental in a way that is unusual for me.
Thanks again.