Over Is Over (Acabada)

I’m what I call a ‘romantic realist’ when it comes to sexual relationships – which are different from hook-ups – one does nor preclude the other – which makes me a bit of inactive slut. I know that things last as long as they do, often for years of a slow, consistent burn, sometimes for short but brilliant bursts one doesn’t want to end.

house tore down that play house

The flirtation I enjoyed with the hot Venezuelan guy has come, all too soon, to an end. I knew it was finished a few weeks before he decided it was over. By the time he had made that clear I had already cleared most of his pics, dic pick selfies, even pics he taken of me off my hard drive, lap top & cell-phone. This wasn’t an easy or hasty decision, just read Me encantan tus manos to see how important some of those pics were.

stuffed dirty friends till the end

Perhaps if he hadn’t actually leapt the ‘poet’ barrier and come to hear me feature more than once I might not have felt so connected by more than our dynamic sexual chemistry. His energy certainly gave rise to some ravishingly romantic poems from me and for that I’m grateful.

chip no chip on my shoulder

He was also a sweet reminder of what is still possible in at my age in my life, my heart and my future. But I’m a great believer in ‘over is over’ and when he apologized for ending things & asked if he could call & see me to explain I said no. He’d explained it well enough already, for my sense of completion. He wasn’t getting one last kick at my can, as it were 🙂

 

samples

 

week one

 

my cellphone lights up

with your face –

the first time any face

has graced that screen –

it doesn’t matter who calls

it’s your face I see

always your voice I want to hear

I see it every time

I check for the time

every time the alarm goes off

so even though

we may never sleep together

I can wake up to you

 

week five

 

my cellphone

no longer lights up

with your face

I let that happen a week or so

then put it into a folder

to glance when I chose to

I went back

to my San Francisco pic

I’m not pained by the fact

I may never be there again

it doesn’t seem as obsessive

so desperate

as having your face there

you are so fresh in my mind

I don’t need reminders

of how obsessed I am

 

week 23

 

my cellphone rings

your pics are gone

your number deleted

I’m not pained by the fact

as life goes on

other men other opportunities

frisco San Francisco memories

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/topoet

 

2 thoughts on “Over Is Over (Acabada)

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