through lust you fast
parting
I don't care about the flowers but I care about their journey to me down a conveyor belt at the grocery store after you clocked out of work, gingerly scanned by a cashier with long unkempt hair concealing their name tag, carried up your icy steps, petals protected by a plastic casing that rustles against your beard, set in plain sight on your coffee table surrounded by acrylic paints and empty Modelo's.
I don't care about the orchids on splints two days past Valentine's Day but I care about how you reach for me in the dark when our bodies are no longer playful and the sound of the highway drowns out our breathing, renders the endless night to a strained fugue, a half-dried painting of desire, the only love I can readily entertain makes me search your hair for grays and wake hungry sucking on your thumb.
About the Creator
Erin Latham Shea
Assistant Poetry Editor at Wishbone Words
Content Writer + Editor at The Roch Society
Instagram: @somebookishrambles
Bluesky: @elshea.bsky.social
Reader insights
Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
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Compelling and original writing
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Excellent storytelling
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Comments (3)
"but I care about how you reach for me in the dark when our bodies are no longer playful " such a great line!
Your perseverance is both admirable and motivating. Keep forging ahead!
Such a wistful, dreamlike yearning through twilight years together. Simply beautiful, Erin.