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Sara J Cunningham

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Six Hours (part four)
by Sara J Cunningham
Monday, March 03, 2003

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a short fiction story in the form of poetryq

Chapter 4

1:30 am

i climb out of our bed
watch to make sure you do not wake
watch to hope you will
i walk into the kitchen
our golden retriever, sophie,
is lying on her gold shag rug
she lifts her head
stares at me blankly
and falls back to sleep quickly
i open the fridge
a jar of pickles
one of them finds its way
to my mouth
there is a picture of us
on this fridge we share
this fridge that so rarely holds
anything nutritious
take out food and soda
pickles and ketchup
the picture is of us in our first year
sitting on the beach
the color of my hair
and your forest eyes
seem to radiate
give the picture life
i wish it had been in black and white
shades of gray
i don't want to see life
not right now

the first time you kissed me
amazing thing it was
we collapsed in your room
a long day of mallratting
we listened to music
you were making tiny braids
all over in my hair
i was at peace
sitting there on your bed
“borrowed” cigarette smoke
and incense mingling together
blown away by the fan above
you stopped braiding
out of boredom or not
i don't know
you looked at me
just looked
i stopped smiling
and then you kissed me
i felt my entire body light up
i was on fire from you
i could feel every molecule
of my body surge with energy
it felt so right
and i wasn't scared any longer
and for an hour afterwards
you didn’t stop kissing me
it was a wonderful feeling

i wander through our apartment
think of you
look at the things we share
things that used to be yours
things that have become yours
i have become yours
you are just a few feet from me
but gone
away deep in your dreams
and way inside
i feel alone without you
our connection is lost for the moment
and deep inside
i feel that i have already died

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Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader) 3/3/2003
I've been following your poem story.
What a wonderful way to do this.
Beautiful love story, even the ups and downs.
Reviewed by Paul Berube 3/3/2003
Sara, love your poem.Many more memories to make.
Reviewed by na na (Reader) 3/3/2003
Sara, love comes from all directions, doesn't it. This is a poem of love for someone who wasn't entangled in a love affair with you. Something you now accept as a natural occurrence. And it doesn't make any difference who we chose to love or under what circumstance. All love to me is good love. Bill
Reviewed by Sandie Angel 3/3/2003
Good write with good feelings.

Sandie Angel :o)
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