At First…

I cannot refuse a challenge. You asked for a love poem, I did my best.

 

 

At first

I thought you were someone else.

I’m still not sure, who you are.

I envision someone handsome,

Tall, kind.

Now I worry you’re slight,

worrisome, and small.

 

I see you once, twice, six or seven times.

Only ever what you post,

never what you fear the most.

I go away, weeks at a time.

I read, I stay, I pander, I ponder

I go away.

 

When you write, it

stirs fire in me.

Coals that burn long

hot, bright.

I am made of shit,

cheap, papery.

You burn through me

quite easily.

 

Let’s meet, somewhere

casually.

Let’s fuck, everywhere

intimately.

Know me, feel me, be with me

a memory to keep.

 

What if you, afterwards,

think sweetly of me?

Done, our feast of ecstasy.

What happens then,

our souls, wrecked endlessly.

I thought you weren’t

like other girls?

Will you still

fuck my pussy,

just as sweet?

 

Please understand,

I can’t risk this.

I wanted more for us,

most selfishly.

Who knows, who you are.

At first,

I thought you might be me.


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