“Stain”
by Lake Fowler
Twice a year, the cleaning
Dusting here, polishing there
Throw this out
And put this away for safe keeping
Beat the rugs and
Flip the mattress
Stopping, two arms gripping the
Bed, slipping in my sweat
The memory foams brings it
All back
Like a sensual Rorschach image
Of two lovers growing from one
And leaving the trace scent
Of their communion
I see the scars our fights have left
Lying in the middle like
A proclamation:
We have been here!
You and I
There’s no such thing as Us
No more, no less, than what
The last year saw end
Our lips have taken opposing tours
Of happiness quests and classified desires
But
Holding the bed, not daring to hide
The leftover wounds of love’s great teeth
I remember your touch, your grip
Your want
And though my heart feels no sick
And though my mind is yet still at peace
I crave your fingertips and slipping lips
Around me and
All that we once were
Do I dare to put us face to face
With the dust below
Only to find us again next spring?
I hold and grip, my muscles strain
The stain, the stain
We are only but a stain
by Lake Fowler
Twice a year, the cleaning
Dusting here, polishing there
Throw this out
And put this away for safe keeping
Beat the rugs and
Flip the mattress
Stopping, two arms gripping the
Bed, slipping in my sweat
The memory foams brings it
All back
Like a sensual Rorschach image
Of two lovers growing from one
And leaving the trace scent
Of their communion
I see the scars our fights have left
Lying in the middle like
A proclamation:
We have been here!
You and I
There’s no such thing as Us
No more, no less, than what
The last year saw end
Our lips have taken opposing tours
Of happiness quests and classified desires
But
Holding the bed, not daring to hide
The leftover wounds of love’s great teeth
I remember your touch, your grip
Your want
And though my heart feels no sick
And though my mind is yet still at peace
I crave your fingertips and slipping lips
Around me and
All that we once were
Do I dare to put us face to face
With the dust below
Only to find us again next spring?
I hold and grip, my muscles strain
The stain, the stain
We are only but a stain
About Lake Fowler:
LAKE FOWLER is unbearably excited to be through with so much traveling. He's
spent the last two years touring the country from coast to coast, border to border, and
has finally found a home in beautiful New Mexico. He spends his days writing fiction
and poetry and recording audio stories for various erotic fiction websites. His story
"Smoke Rings" is forthcoming from the anthology Relationships and Other Stuff and
his reading of the sensual tale "Something Different" is now available on A Woman's
Goodnight's website. He can be reached at LakeFowler@hotmail.com.
LAKE FOWLER is unbearably excited to be through with so much traveling. He's
spent the last two years touring the country from coast to coast, border to border, and
has finally found a home in beautiful New Mexico. He spends his days writing fiction
and poetry and recording audio stories for various erotic fiction websites. His story
"Smoke Rings" is forthcoming from the anthology Relationships and Other Stuff and
his reading of the sensual tale "Something Different" is now available on A Woman's
Goodnight's website. He can be reached at LakeFowler@hotmail.com.
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Art courtsey of
Claire Barker
Claire Barker