naive secrets

Poetry Lonnie Monka 

snow-soiled feet trailed between alcohol & drugs incubating that suburban winter-break assembly

of conversations forgotten upon being spoken

with golden strands fanning those shoulders

her untouchable frame stirred as the last one

awake & cleaning the house–alone–with me

somehow we snuck into the master-bedroom

stretching across some other family’s bedspread

where too long awake now dream-lost lips touched

hands & fingers caressing curves through clothing tongues trading a mosaic of unspoken secrets

till I awoke alone–smiling & never to see her again

& lightning struck in the storm of friends calling because she had died a sudden death

which precipitated void-driven conversation

& conversation after conversation after conversation all I could think was that I had kissed her

& never told a single soul what I then wanted to scream