Song of Songs – extract 481 – work in progress

481
Love, it would seem, but not hard and fast
Hands clasped but not solidly so
A bit of clutching, squirming, uncertainty
The tickles of emotion, lacking seriousness
Wanting satisfactions, disdaining permanence
An oasis discovered in the deepest desert
The hungry, greedy look in her eyes
Tinged with shades of loneliness and fear
Every circle slightly varied
Lusts driving their union further
Than mere conversation could sustain
At least once a night, once united
The pair took the stage to sing
A strained duet, for while Steven
Sang rock ballads passably well
The same could not be said of Penny
Who struggled melodically, dragging
The pain into a strange mockery
Of the duets expressing true love
Yet there seemed to be pure emotions
Hidden behind the plague of uncertainty
Nothing is uglier than baby talk
From anyone older than three
Those days are over
And drink it from a fountain
By common usage, the word “forever”
Means slightly less than three weeks
So wonderfully wonderfully wonderfully pretty
And I want you to want me too

About David Cain

David Cain, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Witch, Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in fiction, literature, novels, personal, poetry, writing. Bookmark the permalink.

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