S.S.S.

Stood up I somberly sit
Seeking solace in shelled, shadowed souls called homo-sapiens.
Surely sober selections should birth smarter results.
I sulk.
Seeing that such solutions aren’t so easily solved.
This story sauced in alliteration sings of solitude.
Loneliness.
In search of sharing some time.
Seconds unseen by sun dials
Darkness unscathed by solar storms.
Except scenes of others smitten with Spring love.
Newness.
Stepping softly in silence slyly feigning innocence.
So cautious not to sully ones reputations.
Until suddenly Summer sets a sizzle smoldering screaming Sex.
Shawls and sweaters shed to solicit scantily sewn straps.
Stripping so you see the shape, size, each rise and fall as you sigh.
To smell the scent that sticky situations like this seep into sheets.
The sensation of stirring until your body hums
Swells with a song of Doe Ray Me Fa Soooo…
Slow rolls in silk or satin sounding sweet until
Smeared make-up shows scars.
Exposed.
Vulnerable, susceptible to sorrow, scared.
You say see you soon.
Avoiding shifty side glances.
Searching for shirts, sock, shoes.
Steeling away whatever split-second signs of serenity.
Separating feeling from adrenaline and serotonin.
Seconds turn Spring to September.
A cycle of see, salutations, sex, so long.
Smothering any sense of security in seeing your smile.
Suitcases sit by stairs.
Preparing to step through looking glass.
Lamenting at footprints left in the sand.
Surface deep you splash trying to save what has already succumbed to sickness.
Sputtering, sinking, I’ve already forgotten you.
Sand shifts. Footprints scatter.
Solids now broken.
Simply said this was not that serious.
Not a sonnet rising and falling with iambic pentameter.
A selective soliloquy sold with strands of sarcasm.
Shit. Our start and finish was synonymous.
Stop looking for single reasons.
Signs.
This ship has sailed.
No Dear John.

Sincerely
Signed
Staats