Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

She wished she knew

But she hasn’t got a clue

What she did

When all is said and done

She didn’t even have fun

She’d fooled herself

Believed sex made them closer

He complained continuously

They’d had sex too soon

Like there was a rulebook to follow

On time limits before sex

Plenty of time had passed

In her eyes

Three times a week for four weeks

Six hours each time

Hold hands; tell stories at French Roast,

Walk empty city streets at 3 a.m.

Sometimes, she’d drive him home

He’d hug her tightly, 

Chastely kiss her forehead

Press his groin to hers

Truly she had no clue as to what set him off

Clearly sex made him vulnerable

Afterwards he pushed her away

Picked arguments, and

Communication went astray

He proceeded to insult, belittle and ridicule her

Like her ex-husband used to do

She wrote him a note, “I wish you well,”

He wrote back he wished her the same

“Fundamentally,” he explained,

“I wanted us to get along.

We’re both highly sensitive creatures

And without meaning to

We push each other’s buttons.”

She decided

He was hazardous to her health

Sex for him creates distance, not intimacy

She’d label him

Toxic after sex

If she knew before
What she knows now

Illicit Romanic Encounter

Meet me outside clandestinely

Kiss me passionately

No one else has to know

I promise not to tell

Agree to meet at Starbucks on
Second Avenue at 80th Street

where hopefully, no one knows us.

I reckon you’ll be late but you
beckon me from the corner

On rare occasions when we meet and you think
no one else sees, you pull me to you fiercely

Playfully and forcefully, always by surprise

Press your lips down hard push

your tongue between my lips

enter without consent

Your hand holds my neck firmly,

your other hand applies pressure to my face

Suddenly, like an unexpected summer storm
Flashes of lightning and downpour on a sunny day,
quickly disappears, the sun
brighter than before the storm

you’re gone in less than ten seconds

Maybe when we’re 80 we can finally get together

again you’ll whisper sweet nothings, stare in my eyes

but then you won’t turn and leave me
We’ll have a few years together before I die

I can always dream
Maybe I'll be a size four when I'm eighty

Then you'll want me forever
You like little slim girls
Not a big girl like me size eleven or twelve

I want to be smaller but that’s not what it is

You just like her more than me she’s trimmer has more muscle

She is artistic just like me

Besides you love her, not me

So why do you insist every time we meet

When I least expect it you act like you’re only being friendly

Suddenly you grab me and my dreams are reawakened
in an unbridled sunrise explosion

Maybe when I’m eighty you'll finally be all alone
Maybe then it will be different