i hear you, my dear

the loneliness, even in a crowd
is written long-hand on your cheeks
like a tearful love song

“Take me away” say your lips
“Lay with me in paradise” say your eyes
“Come with me – fast – let’s not look back” say your fingers
as they nervously are worn down
by the erosion of your restless mouth
“How long will you wait,” ask your arms, hips, and toes
“before you kidnap me?”

the music has turned sober
and all of our minds have a chance to think clearly
she is going home with him
we are both tired of silent conversation
and I need to start walking

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dance of youth

all around is insecurity – a room of adult children
slow-dancing three feet apart, like at a school dance
daring themselves to touch someplace new, daring,
and potentially warm and exciting
the disco ball and pounding music offer distraction
a blanket to mute the senses and excuse a move not attempted
drops of nervous sweat hang in the air
young love, or fear of its presence
a pleasant grin across the dance floor
a fleeting glance across the table
tip-toed steps, toward and away
the dance of eventual masturbation
never changes, gets old, out of style
never fulfills, disappoints
never ends
it just gets predictable