Twelfth

A poem about what I thought to be young love. Obsolete now, of course.

One look, one cautious catch

One slip of the hands, one gasp

One day's all it takes

For lust to get a grasp.

Then, two more, entwining thighs

Lust has taken over now... Let it be our demise.

But mere hours have passed since that

For us to fall, or trip, at that

Into clumsy, sweet infatuation-

Only for myself I speak (never have I been so meek)

How long did I take, just to debate,

If you reciprocate?

Three long nights

Through 'til light.

For more tries, and through my eyes

You treat me like your truth, your lies,

Your everything in secret.

Nothing in the sun, like children of the night

Seven days of sentiment kept quiet, for the moon.

Five more bouts of sweet sensation

And confused anticipation

Will we, won't we, can I, can't I?

...Eventually I learned.

I needn't have yearned so

For everything we did, it pays.

Twelve days

To fall in love.