They all loved me and I
loved them too.
I know because we said and
wrote and screamed
Those filthy words to each
other.
Them with their inviting
smiles and my mother’s eyes
And proud breasts and
needy lips and bashful navels
And eager wet spots and
friendly thighs and boring lives
And, oh yes, their
husbands.
Can’t forget them, they
did not.
Each of them just like a
new world
Wanting to be explored.
And me with my secret and
my anger and inadequate
Emotional intellect and my
smile and hungry heart and
Youth and rigid compass
and my shame and my eagerness
And soft hands and
homeless soul.
We’d find each other
from time to time.
They’d ask to dance so
we’d find a cozy little place.
Rub our hips together and
sway with the beat.
They’d ask for a good
time and I’d order
Some up and we’d drink
and laugh and sometimes cry.
They’d ask for tomorrow
and I’d give them tomorrow.
They’d ask to make love
in the rain and I’d
Place their ankles on my
shoulders and fuck them
On the hood of their
husband’s car.
They’d ask for a kiss
and I’d turn away.
They’d ask about my
secret and I’d lie.
They’d run to me and I’d
push away.
The minutes of passion
flowed from one to another.
The seconds of tenderness
never gave fruit.
I’d ask them to forget
their husbands.
They smiled so
reassuringly and walked
Away without making a
sound.
My secret stayed with me
and my anger
Grew and my heart learned
to listen for the
Sound of snakes slithering
around me.
May 21, 2006 Copyright Salvador Cordova
