365 Poems/84 Where Real Life Happens (Rough First Draft)

Where Real Life Happens

To begin with,

we speak in whispers,

quietly asking the other to repeat

if we don’t catch a word.

 

But slowly, our voices

get louder, faster,

and we look up from our laps,

where our empty fingers twitch.

 

We smile and talk about sex,

how the physicality of it,

and the awareness

of nothing but the moment

makes us genuinely ecstatic.

 

We talk about why we think

adding one more friend

to the already idealistic mix

might make everything better.

 

Then we untangle

this stupid assumption

and get real,

flinging our heads back

and laughing at the absurdity of it all.

 

We slip into the evening

without edging over to the others.

The value of this intimacy

is immeasurable.

 

And for the first time, I notice

your hair is its natural colour,

and it’s beautiful.

 

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