The 57th Date

Behind me as I climb the stairs
Opening doors, pulling out my chair
The corner of my eye catches his stare
His desire for me doesn’t seem fair

Drinks in glasses, bottles, even cans
This isn’t going the way that I planned
He doesn’t judge me, instead he understands
I’m a drunken mess and he’s still holding my hand

Carrying my heels so I can skip on the sand
Then side by side we’re cooled by nature’s fan
Lifting me over broken glass
I’m in the safety of his arms at last

His voice so deep like thunder rolling free
Shower down sweet words all over me
His skin blue-black like midnight on the sea
Pressed up, painted all over me

My firm pillow that is his chest
His fingers in my hair as I lay to rest
His heart beating me to sleep
Lost in words he promises to keep

Adia Kamaria


Published by Adia Kamaria

Adia Kamaria blogs at and is the author of two books: the novel Ana’s Magic and the memoir Yellow Tulips & Red Buses. Adia holds a Bachelor’s in Business Administration from Florida International University and a Master of Arts in Marketing Management from Middlesex University, London.

3 thoughts on “The 57th Date

  1. Very beautiful. Seems like you feel in love with a friend that blossoms into a lifelong companion. I felt love eventhough that was deeper than physical intercourse, its the kind that last out of bed and for all times.

  2. Thanks Roger! This is real & fake. I was going through my book of poems on August 21st and found this one; I changed it up a little, added a title and posted it. I’ll be posting more, hope you like those too!

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