Brenda

The sting of her slap hurt like hell,
a reminder that I’m still alive.
How cruel of me to show affection,
to be so sexually passionate,
only to abandon her after one night.

Intense emotion during casual sex is confusing.
Sure, I did what could to get what I wanted.
Drinks and flattery…
She assured me she understood the meaning of one night.

I gave her truth and voiced my fears.
We shared love and compassion into the morning,
agreeing it was what we both needed for the night.
I can’t remember her name,
I can’t remember any of their names.

“Brenda, my name is Brenda”,
“Damn you”, she sobbed as she walked away to her car.
I closed my eyes trying to ignore her smell of lavender
Fighting to stifle words that may encourage hope

“Brenda! I yelled to her.
Your favorite color is teal.
You like cats, squirrels and buttoned-up shirts.
You love teaching children and you read fiction,
and your mom… she touches you in your dreams.”

I lowered my head to my hand,
feeling the sting on my cheek from where Brenda had hit me.
Regretful for my moment of weakness, I looked up at her to explain
just in time to see her beautiful smile as she waved good-bye.

I still remember her name.