Yes, he laid me.

Aching heart; fear-filled,

Longing for even the bleakest comfort,

He gave his arm out. Solace, I thought.

A delusion.

 

He held my hand, moving an inch every hour,

I could call the hoax, no naivety here.

Yet, hope is a bitch!

 

So yes, he laid me.

 

He walked the street, whistling,

A beat in his gait.

Our eyes never met.

Lying under the sheets I thought,

“If never can I forgive myself for a deed that harmed, I will have you.

You will be my penance to all my wrongs.”