Glass (Crank 2)

Brad draws back the quilt and I slither

beneath it, into his arms. I was hoping

you’d come. Now he’s kissing me, and

it’s nothing like how Trey kisses at all.

But it’s good. Great. And his strength

becomes mine. But before we do

more, I have to tell him, “I know

this isn’t right, but I need you.”

And he says, We need each other.

How can that be wrong? I still love

Angela, and I know you love Trey.

Can’t you and I love each other too?

I haven’t thought past loving Trey,

never considered loving someone else,

especially not at the same time.

Can I love more than one person?

Would that make me love Trey less?

I have no answers now, need no

answers now. Except one.

“Are you saying you love me?”

He Doesn’t Answer

Not with words, as if

vocalizing his response

would give it too much

weight. His silent reply

is heavy enough.

Silent, but for the shush

of skin against skin;

the sigh of heightened

senses; the exclamation