As I pass him on his corner, a week after our mutual break-up
(Still friends, just in different places),
He smiles, and it speaks to me:
It says “We have a secret, no one will know”
It says “I remember you in my bed”
It says “I can still taste your pleasure.”
His smile would have brought me to my knees
Any other day. Today, as I remember him –
His smooth caramel skin, the scent of his soap, his guttural tones –
I also remember his heart,
Something I will never possess
Although I want it still.
I manage a return smile:
As my knees hold up,
As I keep walking forward.
(Previously published in Summer Anthology by Silver Burch Press, 2013.)