One Night...

… while I’m trying to hold tight to the clasp of my bra, my mind remains locked on the strength of my virtue, my heart keeps wrapped around the truth in my convictions, and my thoughts begin to ponder… Does he even know my name?

I’m not a “full-on-do-gooder”, but what good would it do, to exchange my flourishing garden for a landscape of weeds. Even when your eyes are closed, there’s clarity in your digestion, so why inhale the cloud, when you can mentally see through the smoke screen. Your worth to him is measured by Sex.

Women have so much more to offer, but apparently the order in operation has changed. “Hello”, and “ Can I get to know you?”, are shared over breakfast in bed. We’re letting ‘em park cars in our garage, yet they’ve never even paid the mortgage. We’re trading High Standard’s, for easy opportunities, when the real gift comes from the present of real encounters. To see me is to KNOW me.

It’s simply put, but don’t confuse it with simple. I’m not an easy girl, yet I’m not hard to understand. If it’s easy access for you, how hard can it be for the next person inquiring about an All Access Pass. Sorry Sir, This is not an Open Door Policy.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a prude, or a square. I like to “play” in the dark too, but I understand how unsuccessful it can be trying to bring a flashlight to hell. Morals. As if to say virtue matters anymore, these thoughts of sexual independence seem to go no further than my back door. Women nowadays make life easy for a man. What you won’t do, someone else will, so to remain in the game, you better make your way to the field. Sports were never my thing.

I don’t expect a replay, or to give you a chance to capitalize on the real trophy. My friendship. I’ve encountered many other men whose human value system derives from their sexual pyramid. Attempting to hold on to my belt, and abstaining from the notches on yours, I realize my position in your memory bank. Who are you again?

I laugh at the conclusion and add up how many times I’ve traveled down this road before. I could drive it with my eyes closed. I’m starting to become a regular. So…I know the protocol for how these things operate, and like most unsuccessful night moves this too will remain in the dark. I guess I’ll say it for you… Next.

© A. L. Lewis