The chat we had last night
Under the dim street light
Was tragically comic
Or comically tragic,
For we tried to conceal
How we really did feel.
We knew we were in love
And in fact we should have
Confessed, but we were scared
Though passion fiercely flared.
Our fervent, scarlet lips,
Our shaking, restless hips,
Our warmly pleading eyes,
Our fairly boiling thighs,
Our hearts’ palpitation,
All showed infatuation.
But we couldn’t discuss
The feelings binding us,
So we tried to pretend
That we didn’t intend
Right from the beginning
To have any longing,
Or any desire
Burning like a fire
So hard to relinquish
Inside our bones and flesh.
In fact we were afraid
For having so much heard
About love that did fail
Because it was too frail
To survive a few hours,
So indeed why should ours?
We feard to ex[erience
The potential existence
Of whatever affair
We could possibly share.
We were so reluctant
To probe the abundant
Feelings that we both knew
We shared but couldn’t view,
Or we were not sure about
Being shrouded in doubt.
How could we be so sure
That this love could endure
Amid the seas of blood
That never ceased to flood?
An explosion heard somewhere
Proved how helpless we were,
How weak the link would be
Between you, dear, and me.
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