Tag of heart

There’s something swift about the way savannah holds my tongue, lingering behind the semblance of an uncertain bitterness that cools beneath ice cubes; ice cubes that tickle knowingly as they melt down my throat.

The edge of my front teeth hurt and I smile for no particular reason.


He smiles at me.

The gesture reminds me of his impermanence and it hurts to swallow.

“What intrigues you?” I hold him with a stare that I hope translates into little thorns of anger.

“You”, he says with a chuckle. “Your eyes are following my every move and I can see your soul begging them not to.”

I laugh. And immediately regret for not laughing hard enough.  I smirk and nuzzle my glass like it’s a smooth butt cheek

He moves out of the darkness into the light. He sits on a low chair and looks away as if I weren’t in the room. I want to call him out on his failure to make me feel less important, but I can’t; because I feel invisible.

She walks into the room and he pats the seat beside him. She responds with a smile and slides into her seat.


I can see her nibbling his ear lobe; he has an indescribable look on his face, as if he’s torn between expressing pleasure and pain. I cough a little.

As a reminder you know? Maybe he’s forgotten I’m still there. He cares for my feelings.

He does, doesn’t he?

He looks up with a look of guilt and brushes her away…but it takes just a few minutes for him to be drawn back into her. She’s biting his lower lip now, and her hand is lost in his bulge.

Feelings of self-worth ripple through my body, there’s a turmoil only I can feel.


I open my eyes, and she’s just whispering….



6 responses to “Tag of heart

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