Self-Gratification (Sariling Sikap)

I could count the seconds between your sighs, the gaps between the grunts. Well-measured, timed perfectly, so as to avoid notice. I could almost hear you counting under your breath as you grind your hips clockwise against mine. And then counter-clockwise as you start over.

As I draw near, you whisper words a bit louder. Somewhat faster. A little more urgently. But the tone is off-key. Definitely flat. They sound like words to a song. No, not beautiful lyrically. More like learned by rote. Four aahs followed by two oohs then a yes! Now repeat the first stanza.

I hold you tighter, afraid that I have lost you. I whisper my love, as I taste that familiar earlobe. You smile. Say the words I want to hear. But your eyes remain vacant, staring at an invisible metronome at the ceiling. Then everything stops. I lay beside you, spent. As you rush to the bathroom to clean yourself.

photo from here