Back in the Day, a hot redhead,
Pill—jumped us right into bed,
a first date kiss was a first date fuck.
Sex at first sight, first night screw.
Never friends, moaned and screamed
more than walked and talked.
Passionate for a few weeks,
then moved on until the next one
spied our libido—bang bang.
Years later we connected on Facebook,
exchanged our lives on email.
She said this:
“I finally got married,
to a really hot Middle Eastern man,
as passionate as it ever was,
but 17 years later, a nasty divorce,
don’t even speak to each other
except about our confused children.”
Never friends.
In old age, now, try to fathom,
try to look back through
the wrong end of a telescope,
make everything smaller,
more clear, it dawns on me.
Sex is wild fun. Friendship binds
and if we had to do it over again,
how about a dinner date,
walk and talk, a picnic, walk and talk,
in a bit, hold hands, together
some movies, popcorn,
an arm around the chair back,
in a bit, a peck on the cheek,
read some poetry together, a hug,
in a bit, lips, love your garden,
always walking and talking,
that stupid old courtship thing,
becoming friends, maybe
who knows, not both divorced,
sitting lonely, cities apart.
Originally published on Trash To Treasures