SMH...

Funny how naïve I can be
Not seeing what’s
Right in front of me
Wanting to uncover
An alternative possibility
For me and he

I’m not blind, but
Between my thighs
I lose my mind
Then in hell
Myself I find

Yet

Still

I seek his slow grind

Like that of a bird
Seeking South
A baby‘s thumb
Seeking its mouth

A question
Seeking why
A tear
Chasing a cry
::sigh::
That’s me and this guy

“Come to me, lover”
To him I say
When I know
He should
Stay . . .
. . . .Away