And So The Rose Is Trampled Poem by Ellis Letterman

And So The Rose Is Trampled



Her hand around the back of my neck, fingers in my hair. I belong here, in her arms, warm breath against my mouth.

The shame sets in tomorrow, years of purity screaming in my mind against all they taught me was wrong. Tonight it's only us, no fear, no guilt. I'll ask "is this okay", and I think "this is so easy, so right."

My hand on her waist, fingers holding her close. She belongs here, underneath me, secure in my arms.

I can silence the fear for a moment, for an interlude in her bed. I'm throwing the blanket to the side, she's shifting her hips beneath mine. The sheets and the pastor's voice in my mind can't come between us.

Her hand on my hip, fingertips under my shorts. I belong here, legs tangled with hers, warm skin against mine.

Tomorrow, on the drive home, I'll think about what I've done, reminding myself it can't be a sin. I'll regret it and remind myself that it won't always be like this. I regretted the first time I kissed her too, and then I did it again, and again, until I felt in my body, not just in my mind, that it was holy.

My hand on her chest, fingers under her shirt. She belongs here, in the quiet night, mouth pressed to mine.

I don't think about roses in auditoriums, gum passed around, cake eaten one bite at a time until it's all gone. Who wants a trampled rose, a chewed piece of gum, a cake half eaten? But I cannot be used up.

I'm afraid of soul ties, like I can become connected enough to someone that I cannot be whole without them. Tomorrow I'll think of papers glued together, then pulled apart. I'm afraid of leaving myself behind. But I am not paper. I am not so easily tattered. I'm afraid I'll hurt her, like I've somehow sinned against her. But I ask "Is this okay? ", and she whispers yes, and she holds me tight. And I say "That was a sin", and she whispers "good". And so I hold her hand, and for a moment I think I'm free from them. Tomorrow I'll remember that I'm tethered to them, but today I belong here, warm next to her, hand wrapped around hers.

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