I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: The night is full of stars and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance. The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her and sometimes she loved me too. On nights like this, I held her in my arms. I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky. She loved me, sometimes I loved her. How could I not have loved her large, still eyes? I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her. To hear the immense night, more immense without her. And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass. What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her. The night is full of stars and she is not with me. That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away. My soul is lost without her. As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her. My heart searches for her and she is not with me. The same night that whitens the same trees. We, we who were, we are the same no longer. I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her. My voice searched the wind to touch her ear. Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once belonged to my kisses. Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes. I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her. Love is so short and oblivion so long. Because on nights like this I held her in my arms, my soul is lost without her. Although this may be the last pain she causes me and this may be the last poem I write for her.
Pablo Neruda
Katarina wasn’t afraid of Baden. Not anymore.He took a step to the side, intending to move around her. Oh, no. She flattened her hands on his shoulders, keeping him in place.I want to know what’s wrong with you. She said. Tell me.He snapped his teeth at her in a show of dominance. You think you want to know my problem. You’re wrong.Her tone dry, she said, I’m so glad you know my mind better than I do.Very well. I need sex. He threw the words at her as if they were weapons. Badly.Whoa. Blindside!Heart pounding, she jerked her hands away from him. Sex...from me?Yesss. A hiss. Only from you.Only. Amazing how one little word could send pleasure soaring through her, warming her. You told me never to touch you. Which she’d just done, she realized. My bad.I’ve changed my mind. His gaze dropped, lingered on her lips.Burning her... But you and I...we’re a different species. As if that mattered to her body. Gimme!
He took a step closer, invading her personal space. We’ll fit, I promise you.
Tristo hrmenych! The raspy quality of his voice, all smoke and gravel...she shivered with longing. Must resist his allure.But...but...why? Before she’d committed to Peter, she’d dated around, had made out in movie theaters, cars and on couches. She’d liked kissing and touching and riding the belt buckle, as her friends had called it. Then, after committing to Peter, she’d gifted him with her virginity. At first, he hadn’t known what to do with her—he’d been just as inexperienced—and she’d left each encounter disappointed. When finally she’d gathered the courage to tell him what she wanted, he’d satisfied her well.She missed sex. But connection...intimacy...she thought she missed those more.The dogs barked, jolting her from her thoughts. They’d cleaned their food bowls and now wanted to play. She clasped Baden’s hand to lead him out of the kennel. He jerked away, severing contact.One action. Tons of hurt.I’m allowed to touch you and you want to have sex with me, but you’re still disgusted by me. She stomped outside the kennel, done with him. Well, I’m leaving. Good riddance! Your do-what-I-say-or-else attitude was annoying, anyway.He darted in front of her, stopping her. Breath caught in her throat as sunlight streamed over him, paying his chiseled features absolute tribute, making his bronzed skin glimmer.So beautiful. Too beautiful.I’m not disgusted by you. You need me. I’ve come to accept it, he admitted, looking away from her. But being skin-to-skin with another is painful for me. We’ll have to proceed carefully. And you’ll get over your annoyance.Another order! She would show him the error of his ways.
Gena Showalter