Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Sixteen on a fling
with a mean Bud Light queen
who seemed supreme
compared to anything I'd seen
and she had me
on demand, free
and even dreams wouldn't believe
the things we achieved.
The steam under sheets,
obscene words and screams,
but being her fling taught me one thing
it left me free from the need to be
We weren't in love we just made it
until everything we hated faded
under blatant blankets and great sex
far beyond the basics; an apex.
Exceeding the expectations
of wasted teenage faces
and late night races,
always a tie.
Always on high
Disguised by a lie about why
so much of my time was spent with her on nights then
divided by pride and non-possessive vibrance
Perhaps the lights that passed by us
instilled such a blindness
that I couldn't finance her lips off my eyelids.
Or maybe we were perfect for each other;
perfect for the purpose
of not feeling worthless and deserted
by making love on the surface
simply because we deserved it.