Just the Three of Us
I liked Caryl so very much.
I think she might have been the one.
But in the beginning, things must always
be introduced at a certain pace. If one plunges
into love’s ocean from the cliffs, one drowns.
So I had been wading.
But it all ended suddenly, on our seventh date,
when we had fallen laughing into her bed, fully clothed.
It was a delicious breakthrough in our growing
intimacy. All the possibilities were there, calling
to us. I know we both felt it.
Almost as a joke, we had gone to spooning.
I blame myself for how things ended.
But I blame him too. My little brother.
You see, I had both my arms around her waist.
And Caryl was telling me how much she loved it,
that sensation of being held.
And then she felt it. It was his tiny hand stroking
her long, blonde hair.
I had failed to make sure the buttons on my shirt
were fastened tight.
And he must have broken through the heavy tape I always
apply before social occasions.
When she turned and saw what grew from the middle
of my chest, well….her scream will never leave me.
I liked Caryl. A lot.
But so did he.
