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Is This the Answer?

by Robyn Welborne 3 years ago in performance poetry

[No Subtitle]

What had happened last night ...

You rang my phone on the late night just to see if I was still up.

I could have ignored your call, but

I had nothing better to do.

You struck up a good conversation

almost instantly!

It grew so intense, it had me vacuuming my walls while sitting on the kitchen counter.

It was one of THOSE types of "gossip sessions".

Those that had me walking around the house doing pointless tasks.

I was so wrapped up in the juicy details to even think twice about paying attention to my actions.

We talked for hours. I was tired.

I wanted to go to bed;

to just fall asleep to the sound of your voice on the other line.

"Come over."

That voice.

Maybe I dozed off? I could not recall.

"Come over." There it was again.

The hour was reaching midnight;

that did not stop me.

My bags were already packed; I did not question it.

The hum of my engine roared to life.

I still never knew the speed limit to your house.

It was all just like clockwork to me,

I knew the way. I knew where they hide.

With a phone call, you greet me at the door.

First the living room;

then

your room.

It felt as if we never got off the phone.

The conversation was never boring.

Laughter filled our lungs; smiles froze on our faces.

I tried to pour you a drink, you refused.

I drank your cup instead.

Not a moment went by where it bothered me to drink by myself.

You made me feel like I was two people.

I drifted in and out of consciousness.

I felt your presence coaxing me to stay in the light.

Your face was close.

Our eyes were closer.

No amount of squinting could bring the blurry outline of your figure to perfect resolution.

I pixelated you by choice.

"You're spinning ... you're spinning."

I sat there with my thoughts alone in the room of my mind.

The world around me went into one ear and out the other.

My mental capacity shut off. My tongue-tied in knots, yet still felt so loose.

I was moving in slow-motion and wondering

were you moving with me?

I was not planning on staying.

You helped me into your sheets.

Piece by piece, I was stripped out my layers.

I had nothing. You had nothing.

The warmth of our souls thawed my chilled body.

My head was still cloudy. The ceiling fan above me spun.

Was it moving? Was I moving instead?

The faint puff of cool airbrushed on my forehead.

The soft caress of skin on skin generated a familiar sensation.

The smell of expensive shampoo and cheap body spray mingled in my nasal passages.

You melted into me. I melted from existence ...

I do not know how I ended up in my bed the morning after.

I do not remember anything from the night before.

My head felt like a drum.

Constant pressure from continuous pounding.

I had sand in my mouth.

I was two sips away from total dehydration.

My phone rang. It was you.

You had called to see how I was feeling.

I did not know how you knew how I felt.

We began to chat that was interrupted abruptly.

I need to know,

What had happened last night ...

performance poetry
Robyn Welborne
Robyn Welborne
Read next: La Luna
Robyn Welborne

I am an aspiring creative writer who is currently working for my double Associate’s Degree in English. My writing has no limits and no filter. Anything and everything from all genres; if I think about it, then I will write it down. Enjoy!

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