Ceremonies

      "Hmmm, she's cute." the young man ogles a lady.
      Running his tongue along the inside of his over bite, he bites
      on the tip: his lips shut. "Does she have pink nipples or brown?'
      The senses heighten. "What is that musky floral she's wearing?"
      he gives a quick peek at her thighs.

      It's so fustrating and silly and meaningless, but he is aroused.
      What a vulgar organ. Not a word has been said or a gesture made,
      but up it rises. This is not love. A man's body is so obvious.
      He doesn't even know her name. Should he make some outward
      gesture of friendship? Perhaps, a hand-shake and then a kiss?

      Ceremonies seem so shallow. Should he give her gold, silver,
      a fruit basket? It is silly, how long can his charity keep her?
      The longing only increases his misery. Her smile is dazzling.
      She walks by. Poetry makes nothing happen. It is a prison to
      teach men how to pray.+


      :)