Morning After

I’m awake.

Very suddenly, and without opening my eyes, I realize

this is not my bed.

And there’s someone else in it.

I try to remember last night, but a haze of champagne allows only the

faint recollection of a birthday party and a game of truth or

dare…oh no.

That explains the headache.

I’m not quite willing to face the sunlight streaming in,

obscenely bright, so I reach with eyes still shut.

Hoping to find something familiar…Matt’s beard,

Joseph’s muscled arm,

A breast.

A woman’s breast?

I freeze. Then gently, cautiously draw my arm back, trying not to

think about the sensation of warm smooth skin under my fingertips.

The sledgehammer attack suddenly doubles, threatening migraine.

Perhpas I could just go back to sleep and this will all go away?

But I gather all of my courage, such as it is,

and open my eyes, braced against the sunlight.

When they recover from the glare I see…

Masses of curly red hair,

Smooth, pale limbs on a gymnast’s body,

Small, but definitely female breasts,

And very bright, very worried green eyes, set in the heart-shaped face

of a stranger.

So what else can I do?

Just calm the concern on that face with a smile (only slightly forced)

Reach out a friendly arm and draw her close,

Begin perhaps to enjoy the odd sensation of breast against breast.

And try to relax.

They say the difference between a straight man and a gay man

is a six-pack of beer.

Well, I guess the difference between a straight woman and a bi woman

must be a couple of bottles of really good champagne.

At least we have better taste.


M.A. Mohanraj

September 4, 1992