Spring Cleaning

It's quite a task

Sorting through the clutter

Of a lifetime;

Going through this rubble,

The treasures

Of a sentimental fool.

What is to be kept

What thrown,

Nothing in here

Is of use;

Stuffed here

As it is.

I have done without it

for so long.

And discard I must

All, but 

The very dearest;

I start from one end

Packing

With careful fondness

Bits of me

Doomed in the dump yards

Of this world;

Until all I'm left with is

Exhaustion, loss and pain.

And a room 

Clean and bare.

The way it had been made.

Only now

It is a room

I seem to know not. 

Demystified

I felt shy,

But it was shed

With the last pieces 

Of our clothing.

My body ached;

Excitement humming

From every single pore.

And then your mouth

Closed upon mine,

Your breath

Reminding me of

Charcoal and stale bread.

But the distraction 

Of your hands

On my breast

Helped in the

Getting used to.

Our tongues and fingers

Meshed, wandered,

Explored, wondered

And then you entered

Your stab, the pain 

Shattering my ecstasy

Though only momentarily.

Our breaths and sighs

All tangled again

And soon it was over.

We quickly dressed,

I brushed my hair

And we left.

Nothing had changed

Except perhaps

That once spotless

Bedspread.