(Do you think that
this is for the best,)
Skin brushes against skin;
another tear is shed.
(to love and to lose
and be reborn again?)
Contact is made
in sharp, jagged breaths.
The rhythm crescendos
then comes to a rest.
(What was supposed to be
romantic comedy
came to stop
at heroic tragedy.)
She shakes under
the now warm sheets.
(Can what was lost
be found again?)
As skin brushes skin;
no more tears to be had.
(Do you really think
that this is for the best?)
Author notes
I wrote this after a good friend of mine broke up with her boyfriend and seemed to go down a very destructive path the very same day; beginning to smoke, getting drunk, and having sex with another man.
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