He stood at the end of the driveway as she pulled up. She closed the car door and walked toward him. There were no words said, just touch, a kiss, a taste of each others excitement of the perchance meeting. hands entwined as bodies connected. The years of want and need coming to a split second of what took you so long. A breathless, can we go inside leads to skin to skin. Years of knowing of each other, each with someone else or some where else. Never the right time for paths to cross, till now. Even after the moment has come and gone, the smell of the night has not faded. I feel aftershocks of emotions wanting to be back in the room, even if it is to talk about nothing. I never knew it would feel so right. A telephone call at 1 a.m. reveals a conversation in taste. His skin was salty and sweet, a musky taste which won’t leave my tongue. He smells powder and perfume from the day before. The smell lingers on the pillow where we had but a moment, hoping for more time together. If only I didn’t have to sleep, I would make up for the time lost. I can still smell him, he is on me, in me, surrounds me – though not close.
A 40 year old statistic. Mother, battered woman, homeless, spineless at times, over-confident at others, floating with adopted family, friendships closer than blood relationships. Hopeless romantic with a smashed heart. I am the beacon of hope for three small ones, I have to put on my mask when I get to the bed where I now sleep.