Dork
I swear down, Pierre was the inspirationFor one of those artsy, suggestive perfume ads,
Harsh, moody and mysterious, then
Exposing my bumbling idiot routine
That would implode on itself
A trillion zillion times in eternal loop
Every time he merely looked at me from under those
Calf lash weapons
One secret brush of his finger in the coffee queue
And I was wholly out of body, man, then
Floating slowly back down
From the blinding stratosphere
But never quite touching earth for the rest of the day.
But I couldn't allow myself this persecution,
Nor to be Adonis's dork
Could I?
Poetry by 1LFD
Read 101 times
Written on 2021-06-26 at 01:21




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