A Stranger Touch

A Stranger Touch

Tucked under the sheets,
I forgot that we were naked.
We were talking politics.
And I hit you with gay marriage.

I thought that we would banter,
About the dads and dads.
And about the moms and moms.
But somehow we got talking,
About why my dad left my mom.

And I told you it was okay. 
And I kissed you on the mouth.
I touched my nose to your nose,
And said let's stop talking and start doing something else.

But you asked another question.
And it made me think.
Yes, I wished my dad loved my mom still,
I actually wanted that more than anything.

And before you asked another question,
You said you can’t imagine how that’d feel.
You said that you were sorry.
And I said it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Tucked under the sheets,
I forgot that we were naked.
We were talking about moms and dads,
And you hit me with tough questions.

The night wore on and we stayed in bed,
And the sheets were wet
With tears.
You had asked me questions,
About things I hadn't realized
I had forgot to feel.

The bed was for naked bodies.
Not for naked truths.
At least that’s what I had thought
When I invited you up to my room.

I expected a stranger’s touch.
But it was a stranger touch.
And I had thought that I was fine,
But a broken leg’s still broken,
Whether or not you choose to use a crutch.

We were laying down again.
Tucked under the sheets.
I forgot that we were naked.
And I forgot to protect me.

I’ve always liked conversation.
I've mastered filtering through my thoughts.
I could kiss and dodge the chalked up secrets,
Like my tongue playing hopscotch. 

But you stripped me down to nothing.
No clothes, no shield, no escape.
And when I answered you, I began to cry.
You held me 'till I felt safe. 

And there are things two people do in bed,
Expectations, if you will.
These expectations are usually expected,
Once the man has paid the bill. 

After peeling each other's clothes off,
I felt prepared for the affair,
But you only put your arms around me,
And said that you were there.

I had expected a stranger’s touch.
But it was a stranger touch.
I finally stopped pretending I was okay.
And decided it was okay to use the crutch.

Fill The Gaps

Fill The Gaps

Will You Hold Me In Your Mind?

Will You Hold Me In Your Mind?