We walked out of Union
Square Park where we had
solidified our Us from a
muck to a mold, am ambivalence
thick with question to a concrete
asserted; irrational, selfish, temeritous.
Swooning smoothing soothing wooing
glances and gapes mouths moist ahhing
in bedsheet laughter in coy epigrams
in kisses more delicate than those I gave
my first love. But this is lust.
"I'm so wet" she wrote a block away
cabbed. I read it there aired and
smiled confidence, anticipation
from her subtley stroked pubis stoked
by my backhand while waiting.
And I too rode home saturated in this
present that decision her Her.
Pleated once with hesitation and now
a girl unfurled in a Haley decision
that will work our nerves and needs
overtime with our greatest will.
Here I am
- Some kinda four 'o' clock tragedy
- New York, NY, United States
- I am a writer. I believe all engaging writing is a precious balance between aural and visual aesthetic, emotional and intellectual depth. I am an "intense" young man, and I've yet to find someone willing to contest that claim. I am not rated G, nor is my writing. "Abandon hope, all ye who enter."