Piety

I realized the picture of us was sitting next to the bed and inhaled quickly.
“Are you alright?”, David asked.
I moved my gaze from the picture
and onto his face.
I could barely make out his features in the half light.
Instead of responding I leaned into him again,
our bodies pressing warmly together.
His kisses were soulful, yet at the same time,
hungry, feverish, carnal.
He let out a soft groan as I pushed myself atop him.
I looked at him again and could see his face more clearly this time.
I barely knew this person,
this big-bodied man.
When I stood next to him I felt childlike,
my round blue eyes wide as I stared up at him.
My booty call was much my intellectual superior as well;
I knew there was no way I could trump his passion for Palestine,
but I still had hope.
He asked me if Bundy was always this loud (it was 3 am)
and I replied with a yes and with a kiss.
Again, I thought about you, my best friend
who was supposed to look out for me in situations like this
so I wouldn’t get hurt.

What would you think if you knew if I fell in a hole at Spanish house?
Or that I’ve begun to give my body so freely?
What would you think of me with a man so much older, naked in my bed?
Why did you have to go off to a Christian school with so much piety,
While I have been reduced to this hedonistic lifestyle of second dinners with Indians,
dorm parties with Leif,
Coronas, Wicked Brews, Jungle Juices,
G’Ra and Nathaniel walking me home half naked
and exposed?

“David,” I whispered into his ear.
“What?”, he questioned and then asks again if I am okay.
I don’t respond because I don’t have anything to say to this man
who I argued with over text this summer
while I sat simply and innocently, alone.

There's something really pure and honest about this poem that I like, and I think it shows a lot of innocence (like a lot of religious poems do...which is a good thing, in my opinion). Anyway, I really like the images you show and the fact that it flows with ease without rhyming or making it feel prosy. It was a pleasant piece to read.
Keep writing,
StoryWeaver

maryletsflyaway wrote:Dear God,
Once upon a time, This line is really unneeded and does not give the fairy tail affect you were going for.
There was a girl
And she was beautiful,
Walking, pacing around a field, Pacing reminds me of when something is wrong. It shouldn't because the definition of the word doesn't even relate to that, but it does make me think of a Grandma dying. This doesn't give me the calm slow steps I think you were trying to describe here. I only mention this because I think others will feel the same way.
In the field
Retreating. The last two lines seem kind of stuck on. They really belong in the second stanza. Plus, the second to last line just repeats what we already know and is unneeded. If you get rid of it the last line wouldn't seem out of place either.

Dear God,
I saw the girl one day,
Golden field swallowing her up,
Whole, and into its depths.
I was on the outside, standing
Broken road,
Tired feet.

Dear God,
I am so weary, castoff
In the Nowhere. Where is the nowhere?
I feel that I am falling
Not into the field, This line is unneeded and chops up the rhythm.
But the road.
Engulfed by concrete.

I am not sure about this poem. It seems as though you are saying that God should provide a place for us where everything is perfect and let everyone else suffer. But, we can't just surround ourselves with flowers. We have hardships to deal with. We can't just hide from the world.

But, about the structure. I think this a good and simple poem, but I think to make it truly good you should make it even simpler. It will just add to the affect. Read the poem out loud and take out anything you think disrupts the rhythm.

Hope I helped,

A. S.

Thanks for the reviews!