I'm the Guy

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

  I’m the guy who remembers little things you said six months ago – things you don’t even remember saying. I’m the guy who brags about how smart, and pretty, and funny you are. I’m the guy who sends “Good morning, Beautiful” texts, just to let you know I’m thinking about you. I’m the guy who tries to cheer you up after a bad day; who lives to see you smile; who’d bring you chicken noodle soup when you’re sick; who can talk about everything… and who knows when to say nothing.
  But, I’m never the guy you fall in love with.

The Ghost of Christmas Past

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

  It’s not the money; let’s be clear about that from the start. Though $140 for the special edition, collectible bottle of whiskey she needed to complete her set wasn’t cheap, I had the money… and a desire to please her.
  No, the issue is the glaring example of my continued foolishness; of how – during a global pandemic – I set out upon a quest for this grail: an item she’d mentioned once, months before, during a late-night discussion about things we collect. For me, another lesson in idiocy; thinking that showing I cared for her, and listened to her, mattered.

Modern Muse

 By Bud Koenemund

Each time my phone “dings,”
my heart hopes that it is you.
My mind knows it’s not.

Sated

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

Eyes locked; lips touching;

two bodies becoming one,

'til lust is sated.

The Deepest Wounds

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

  I don’t hate you for breaking my heart. In truth, I expected it; waited for “the bomb” to drop right from day one. It’s the story of my life, really; I’m used to it. But, I didn’t expect to be stabbed in the back… the blade killing trust and affection in one thrust.
  Sadly, the deepest wounds are inflicted by those held in closest confidence. Despite the danger, we let them in – even provide them with the weapon – and turn a blind eye to the risk. And, as love bleeds out, animosity and the rot of indifference corrupts the soul.

Teased

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

"Let me cum," she begged.

And, I, being mean, teased her

a little bit more.

All

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

My flesh craves your touch.

My tongue desires your taste.

But, my soul wants all.

Two More Haiku for Lindsay

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

Creation

Your inspiration

drives my imagination

to create this art.

Repentance

My sin lies in thee:

concupiscent desire;

which I repent not.

War

By Bud Koenemund

A Haiku

For Lindsay

Impure thoughts flourish,

even as fantasy wars

'gainst reality.

What I Miss

 By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

  Last night, I dreamt about you. Nothing momentous, or erotic; just an ordinary scene that faded quickly when I woke to the sadness of your absence, and the knowledge that I can’t even send you a “Good morning, Beautiful” text to enjoy the smile that – once upon a time – would have spread across your face when you realized I’m thinking about you. And, often, you’d send back a “blushing emoji,” because you don’t believe you’re beautiful. But, I’d say it every day – because it’s true – and I had hoped to make you understand it.
  That’s what I miss the most.