- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Scott
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Click hereYour scent on another man's skin,
brings memories/flashes
of my first toe curling kiss,
delivered by you.
You taught me;
passion wasn't always fucking
and making love could be heavy petting.
I tasted your forbidden fruit,
but never devoured it.
Regrets? Perhaps.
But I was never one for sloppy seconds.
Was she worth it?
With her easy legs,
and all night pussy?
Was she worth the loss of me?
Full of clichés, this-
I know.
But I wanted it to be just like you.
- COMMENTS
endthedreamalmost 16 years agoand sad and looking down and away..the last bus it seems to say is pulling in and i'm pulling away--let that door close and the light bulb click out..a coming to self.that terrible rue that slaps up at the finality-something to live with and count stronger by--not something to say here is the hurt, i don't believe u are saying, but I think, here is the audacity of one who thinks they can contain another when the shell breaks open in them and yuou walk out..down the street to catch that dream still a flicker still there..only not in this direction-rueful and wicked and true poem thank u for ur words
sassynycalmost 16 years agoi like the way the poem sounds so even tempered, almost blase. the tone comes across like you're not at all phased by his indiscretion. then on your way to the door, without missing a beat, you come back (maybe for the keys you forgot) and bitch slap him in that final line. don't you just love when they don't see it coming? : D
KOLKOREabout 16 years agofirst hope first love, never to be erased (prhapes get faded in time). But for now, the broken hopes are made to feel like stepping on broken glass...
LeBrozabout 16 years agoOh, that's good; keeping the writing of the whole piece down to a so-so level, than slamming him with that killer ending describing him as the body of the poem.
