Avoiding Condoms

I second-guess myself

over and again,

thinking about a baby or a condom,

whenever I have to show

my feelings over a one-night

stand, standing on Hannah’s pedestal

is like a pistol pointed at the back of my head;

close enough to inhale the gun smoke;

washing memories to rearrange the person

that I used to be before I became the change

that she observed in me.

Slicing myself into knots,

counting the cost of moving

to the west coast is what I’m good at.

The mirror returns my reflection,

and I see the person with whom Hannah fell in love.

Pieces of us die over

a metaphor for cheap thrills

of a catalyst we enjoyed last summer

hiking canyons, dancing beneath

a waterfall, pretending no one

watched, but people watched

and applauded, wishing they had the same

carefree disposition.

Hannah said my dad should

have worn a condom

and then she’d be in my bed,

sleeping with me without a condom.

Her eyes welled, tripping over apologies,

bringing mascara to her chin.

Tearing myself down

to watch her try

to do the same.

But my tears dried after

Hannah told me to drop dead

last Friday night.

I’m hanging by a thread

with little rope left

to break my fall.

And God knows,

I’m gonna fall into

her arms again.

Hannah was going on about

being pregnant and how she was glad

that we didn’t use a condom.

By Andy Cooper

From: United States

Website: https://drinkcoffeewrite.online/

Twitter: AC0040