Poem : Unarmed

Posted by Village Poet on August 10th, 2006 at 07:55am

You entered the empty room
where I sat, perched on the edge,
unaware of any danger.

You showed me your hands, empty,
turned out your pockets, empty too
but for some lint
and a stray guitar pick.

And I trust, just for a moment,
that there is nothing more to this
than that …
empty hands,
empty pockets,
some lint,
a guitar pick.

I lean toward you and suddenly
the pressure changes, drops,
a dizzying lack of oxygen
and I am falling back, on my back
and you are on top of me,
and I am falling…
falling…
falling …
and we are tumbling past reason
straight into abandon.

And here I thought you were unarmed.

Under Poetry