I used to bathe in being blissfully unaware. I met you and it was like 8 years of squinting at the light but also sitting in the dark, so untrue of so many truths I used to cling to. Becks in bed looks so different now, she seemingly does not exist, still celibate and I don’t know why. The sheets stay free of passion and I stay focused but oh the dreams, if they could speak becks would blush.
“Are only fools satisfied?” I don’t know if I know what satisfaction looks like.
We used to be tangled so deeply.
Grabbing you and pulling you in and closer, I wanted to be in your skin, letting nothing separate us. Tongues licking away bad memories, your hands in my hair beckoning surrender but I never knew what that was. We act like we had a choice, how could we, when nobody taught us how.
So many pillows stained with my mascara and your secrets, still, all the walls would whisper sweetly to us, to remind us of the pleasure we brought when becks was in the bed, oh she sang so beautifully sometimes, hands raised in silent awakening. “Voices trapped in yearning, memories trapped in time”.
-B
