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Too available
My diagnosis
My judgment
And then
I saw him
looking trendy and sweet
ordering a burrito with guacamole and cheese.
There was no air conditioning
so we sweated it out
while we relaxed in each other’s company.
His hair looked soft
as did his hands.
And as it turned out
soft
is
what they were.
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 
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