Stocking the shelves with Yogi’s bagels,
tall muscular boy-man looks up
with these deep brown eyes
where my glance catches him
sweaty in the backroom
of Albertson’s deli,
exploring mouths like caves with tongues.
And later, on the floor of my little blue house in Bozeman,
where edible oils slicked us into
serpents writhing one hot mass
life and limb
lost in the newness of slippery-fleshed lust.
chaser of Zen
lover of Winnie the Pooh
jealous (interfering with Zen aspirations)
of Tim One’s youth and good looks,
tied me to the posts of his bed.
Forgetting the Buddha,
he loved me hard
then left me
lying in the condescending waste
of everything we’d never be.
on the small
of my back
as we fell into forever,
flying through each other’s dreams
until we floated apart
by love’s bittersweet breeze.
Brenda Warren 2012
This is my second entry in a Trifecta challenge. My first entry it wasn’t the first time, took second place last week. Thank you for the win, it is an honor. Here is Trifecta’s challenge for this weekend:
We want a real account of a period in your life that can be clearly identified by (wait for it) the number three. Maybe it’s the three decades you spent flipping burgers. Maybe it’s the three seconds you hesitated justifiably before saying “I do.” We’d like for your story to be true-ish, and we’d like for it to be an artistic creation, not just a play-by-play account. Think less “blog post” and more “creative writing.”
During my college years I dated three men named Tim all in a row. I wrote another piece about Tim Three if you are interested, you can find it here.