The First Date

T
Voice pitched too high
Too urgent in its raucousness
Laughter at unfunny jokes
Eyes bedazzled by lustful witlessness
Careful casualness to ensure
Right distance is maintained
For incidental collisions of arms
The first unhanded touches
Hips swaying, loose
Umbrella held
Mirrored image
Of phallic fantasies
Lust, starved
On phantasmagorical imagery
Is drunk on imagined possibilities
Convinced tonight will be reality
When erect potentials shrivel
And mirrors reflect unflattering light
Will lust, having spilt its seed
Grow into love?
Or will reality shattered
Retreat into cells of
Hands cold touches on

Fading fantasies.

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badgerslabyrinth

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