Romantic

Paradox.

That’s exactly what this is.

His eyes and lips and hands and legs are everything they

Aren’t…

 

 

I picture him on horseback

Bare-chested

Eyes wondrous dark

Heart burning

Gallant, mysterious

 

But in reality

 

He’s grammatically inept.

He lives a life of cultural deprivation

He thinks of nothing but his own gratification

He loves no-one, but worships his playstation.

 

Companionship with a female?

Ha.

He’ll only have me in his bed;

Yet his smile

His voice 

The way he moved his shoulders, his arms

They are

Forever wandering in my head.

 

My eyes are deceived, for what is before me

Is a pervert in need of a shave:

Not the beauteous, radiant, utterly sublime

Effulgent young gentleman I crave.