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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1220920
Love (or lust?) strikes again
You reached for my apprehensive fingers
Bound your own about them
Encouraged them around your neck
Placed your own about my waist
So purposefully and delicately you led me
How vulnerable at heart you portrayed yourself
In witty whispers
In the brush of your five o’clock shadow,
The eagerness of your implications.
We longed for nights like past
To take part in the sweet dance
The first ever between us
Even now
After our days had expired
After your hands betrayed me,
Deceived me,
Abused my reputation, my respect.

I desire the man in the moon
As you were at ten
Over the phone
Not the boy
Who blamed,
Who cheated,
Contrived.
I become weak, I believe again
In the way you make my neck melt,
My head wishes to rest upon you,
Because it’s all becoming true.
We lean closer
And I catch myself.
I cannot forget.
My tears have not yet dried up.

Your hands turn red.
My cheek is wet.
© Copyright 2007 Audrey [introspection in text] (sinnelt at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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