|
Shoulder
He wondered
If her tears
Found their way
To his shoulder,
Would he
Hold her,
Listen quietly,
Passively,
Comfort her,
Could he resist
Her intoxicating
Beauty,
Her screaming
Sexuality,
Would he become
But an ember
In her burning
Passion,
Then remembering
He was older,
He heard destiny
Whispering,
Just a shoulder.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
|
|