Girl on bike
wire-basket, Italian style
caught in an old-world alley way
I watch her
she rides up behind me
I, her prey, invite her
Minced conversation
who, what, knew
Then, a spin around
Magical piece of staging
Pulls me to her
As she pulls me in
I know her face
But she is more than her
I shouldn't go there
Because he is waiting
a few streets away
probably wondering
But I don't care
Though a kiss is permissible
it feels forbidden
in this cloistered passage
I move into her
Feeling without touching
Her form evaporating
out of my grasp, into my dream
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2 comments:
Hey, we miss you! Are you going to be posting any more here?
Yes, Stephanie! Yes yes! :)
Bloggers, like bad lovers, emphasize quantity over quality, spraying quick, empty words indiscriminately. A real writer knows how to excite on every level. That's always worth waiting for.
Don't feel pressured to post too often. You have a patient audience. Come as you are. Come as often as you want. Come.
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