Tonight's Poet Corner: Someone Else's Story
Someone Else's Story by Belinda Roddie I didn't want her hands on me - digging around in the torn pockets of my jeans, tugging at the frayed loose ends of my sweater, dragging me away from lights that more exuded warmth than aided my sight. When she kissed me, I tensed up. I felt all the human parts of me turn to metal around my bones, squeaking hinges replacing the smooth movement of my limbs. My jaw got so stiff that it nearly felt ossified, like I was becoming a fossil before I even died. In the other room, others, like us, were making love. Others like us were dipping their fingers into a nectar that came only from each other's mouths, in the form of short, sweet breaths and words that had no sharp end but were affirmative, monosyllabic declarations to whoever above their heads was listening, be it God or the couple having sex upstairs. Yes, yes, yes, yes. I didn't speak. When she finished with me, she left a trail of alien flame along my rib