NOT QUITE RIGHT

 

You swept into the shadows
of all that once was, last night,
like a blur upon the light,
not quite right,
not quite.
I’d slept beneath his covers
after he’d taken off, one night
and you’d caught me in your sight
hoping that I might
well, quite.
You’d found me in a rainstorm
as Christmas day became christmas night
and I the gift that you could bite
as anybody might
and you were right.
I fucked you in his absence
as if to be alone would not be right
and who was I to fight
the stranger in the night,
all right.
You watched me as I slumbered
tangled up beside you, that night
as if you’d somehow seen the light
of all that wasn’t right,
well, not quite.
I left you in the morning
before attachments grew too tight,
before the morning shed its light
on all that wasn’t right,
not quite right.
I left you in the morning
but wondered what occurred that night
when he was back in your embrace, behind the light,
I wondered if you made it back to right,
like you’d felt with me that night
when everything seemed right,
well, not quite.

All Words and Drawing by Damien B. Donnelly

Published by deuxiemepeau

Published poet, writer, baker and former fashion maker, with footprints in Paris, London and Amsterdam but currently back home in Dublin with sights aimed at leaving a mark on the West coast one clear fine day...

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