Sprawling through the streets like sheets bunched together, I've surely worn my leather In pursuit of you. You....prancing about in glee So fancy and free; Not quite cheerfully But nowhere near demure. Thoughts this distinctly impure Would not be easily received. Maybe you aim to deceive. Maybe I should turn and leave……
Still walking. Remaining true to whatever is due. Refreshingly stale. Routinely new. I guess I'm still following you.
Wrought within it all are memories of her phone calls Months before I spent my nights At bar tops under dim lights. Her my refuge from the storm; My protection from the swarm. Harm at bay throughout the day Until I can steal away; And wash away after escape. She would snatch away my cape, Hold me close within her grip And kiss each tear that lined my lips……
…………your hips……… Familiar in their sway. Quite nostalgic, one would say. I'd be further along my way; But this liquor stirs within me. Balance will not befriend me. I stumble into the street As I begin to lose my feet. Feeling rugged. Hanging tough. I suppose I've had enough. Passers by so grim and gruff. I just dodged another truck……
And I'm still walking. Not so resilient but true to whatever is due. Briskly stale. Commonly new. Looks like I'm still following you.
For sake of reason, I wonder: Are you always this seasoned; Pouncing without one misstep? Two turns left Then across the median. I mean am………am I? Am I part of something greater? Will you whisper "See you later" After leading me this far? Can you see the scars Underneath my shirt and slacks? Will you invite me back? This feels intimate and preposterous. Erogenous you may appear; But are you aiming to endear?
Too intrigued to trace my fear;
So I continue walking. Steadfast and true to whatever is due. This life so stale. Your presence new. Why wouldn't I follow you?
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