When You Cry

© 2009 Sandra Jean-Pierre

It came like turbulence from a butterfly's wing. She barely realized it had been a kiss; if it were not for the mango and slight metallic woman taste left on her lips and in the air exhaled into her space, she would have just assumed it, this was all a dream.

Her brow furrowed, afraid to open, while stinging tears punched their way from beneath her lids. A slight breath, almost a hiccup, almost a moan, not quite a yelp, fought for existence outside of her throat. Her eyelashes turned pitch black from the moisture as her nostrils flared and her bottom lip and chin quivered.

She wasn't sure, in the way of picking between two pairs of decidedly black shoes, in the way of choosing between equally ripe fruit, in the way of giving to this now or giving into it later. It was not even really a matter of choice, it was more like a matter of small realizations and resignations that this was happening and either she held on for the ride or she got off... for now. But much in the way of all things, some thing had to happen.

The rustle of clothes or movement confused her further and before the wave of indecision could subside, firm, hot lips pressed onto hers, then backed away, then came in more gentle; not demanding her lips part but not taking her non-reactive 'No' for a definite answer either. Those firm lips brushed ever so gently, prodding ever so slightly with mango/metallic scented tongue, which captured her top lip and tickled it feathery soft. What was there to resist?

With nothing left to do she opened her lips, loosened her clenched jaw and let go of a dry sigh that managed to escape captivity from her chest. She felt it then- the warmth of hope, the nervous heat of desire married with abandon. She flinched.

I cannot do this! I cannot do this again - Oh God! OH GOD!


With eyes finally open and through a blurry haze, she focused on the woman before her. Backing away, she spied the heavy sad drops that rolled down the cheeks that were in such proximity to hers. Those eyes though were closed. Those lashes though were golden and dark with tears. She saw the well worked hands reach up and wipe away their owners disappointment.

"I was hoping..." The words whispered onto themselves, almost lost to sound.

She gazed before her, trying to beat the emotions that had eviscerated her speech, into submission, trying to find one more justification, one more phrase that didn't sound like 'I'm Sorry'. Because she wasn't - not for sending her away or brushing her off. She wasn't sorry that this woman in front of her kept on coming back.

But she was sorry that her hardness, that part within her that would not relent, made this woman cry. What heartless beast had she given birth to in her chest? From what fount of self-loathing or hate did she nurse it? And worst of all, why did she keep it so close to her heart?

This isn't just about Ano'i... it's about Me too, what I want. The small needful space within her pleaded. I matter in this, I have a choice... I-

She placed the heels of her hands on Ano'i's thighs, inching closer to the crotch of her jeans. Ano'i kept her eyes half mast, daring not to move in this moment. Nava leaned in closer, rubbing her nose against Ano'i's, running her cheek against her's, putting their foreheads together. She closed her eyes and absently found Ano'i's lips. Tentatively she kissed them, pulled back slightly, forwards again she took Ano'i's bottom lip between her teeth, then let go, kissing this time with more intent.

Without asking permission, small mournful moans bubbled up from what felt like the seat of her yoni. She couldn't stop them, couldn't quell the plaintive sounds that accompanied each kiss. Ano'i seemed to be responding in kind - her own moans sounding like small whispers of ...oh..., apologetic, reverent, honored, coy - like a well pleased partner, proud.

Then the sobs came - from Nava. She pulled away from her kissing and put the back of her left hand to her lips. Overwhelmed, she did not expect that it would feel like this, even now. Her body shook with the need to be touched again, to be pleased again, to be loved. But she didn't know that it would be like this, this vivid smell of sex and wanting, fear and fucking. She fully expected to be detached, just enough to get through the entire thing not to actually enjoy and want it.

Ano'i responded with more kissing, on her cheek and neck. Reaching beneath her blouse she felt for Nava's smallish breasts, kneeling between her legs, she pulled her bum forward on the chair cushion and kissed her belly, burying her nose in Nava's pant crotch when she was done. Looking through star struck eyes she inquired:

"Is this what you want? Is this okay?" Her voice seemed to dip an octave, adding fuel to Nava's already mounting fire.

Nava let out a small yelp of a yes before leaning all the way back in her chair and letting out the sobbing within her soul. It was long and low and primal and left her breathless. She reached down to her thighs and pulled Ano'i up the length of her body; their breasts touched through the fabric of their clothing, Ano'i's knee came up between Nava's legs, forcing out a satisfied whimpered.

"I would have waited for you... no matter how many times you sent me away. I would have waited..."

"I know. I know."

Nava kissed Ano'i deeply, as she felt the weightless shift from the comforts of her chair to the nothingness of the air in Ano'i's strong arms, then finally resting on the bed.

"I will cry through this... " Tears already lining up at the corners of her eyes.

"It doesn't matter. As long as this is what you want, it doesn't matter."

She realized this was more than what she wanted - it was what she needed. Like rain spilling through sun-cracked ground, she needed this loving. It wasn't like picking shoes or fruit, it was more like air and breathing. More like finally choosing to live rather than die.

I Don't Know

© 2008 Sandra Jean-Pierre

I Don't Know
... that I would be human if I didn't miss some of these things
some of these touching things

but I do

miss the way you smell after a shower
that clean sweet scent
of Dove and your skin

but not like that
not like
you'd think
not now

how I miss the
feel of your skin
against my palms
as I contemplate
how your hair between my
fingers will be both wiry
and soft

but not like that
not like
you'd think
not now

I miss those moments
in general

but not with you
not like that
not with you
not now

finally
your face has been
replaced
by this
all loving
all caring
place marker, in my mind

she has replaced all that
you never allowed
or conceded to,
and like that
I am realizing that I don't need you

to be those things
I've been so heartbroken for
those things that youth and living
have convinced you don't matter
after all

when they do
but you won't know that now
won't understand the
wealth that passed through
your hands
like gently held wind

but I am alright
with knowing I won't be there
in that 11th hour moment
for you

not like that
not like
you'd think
not now

cause I've finally
recognized the strength
in walking away.