Stage Freight For the Hitch Hiker

Press me firmly to the wall
My heart now racing, rich with fault.
It bleeds here in this place,
but yet you haven't left.

Your chest heaves breaths within me,
my lips upon your own.
my lips, which always scold you,
can never turn to gold.

breathing, breathing, heavy soft,
this moment surely fake.
what is this human nature?
How could I hold this stature?

oh right! I'd just imagined
a space-age Mr.Right,
whom only dainty, pretty girls
wish for his slighted murder.
and with his right hand steady still,
he'll take yours highly from the way.

and I'll be the drifting shadow
when your two worlds shine in white.
something old, new, borrowed, blue....
is something I would never do.