Tender Hearts Fall

Here’s a boy, tender
and raw, heart exposed
awkward innocence
blocking intention

Here’s a man, fiery
eyes, hands coarse,
face leather, smoky
words coaxing affection

Here’s a girl, book smart
heart uncertain, romance
a fluttery desire, caught
between the two, torn

The boy averts his eyes
fears she’ll see the raging
in his loins, read obsession
in his longing, reject him

The man takes her hand,
softly traces the outline
of her face, slow, seductive
draws her into his mystery

She is a two-headed lamb
ponders the breadth of
the boy’s shoulders, knows
his future is a srtaight line

Hormones raging at man’s
touch, the way his eyes
devour her, the magical
nuances in his voice

Two paths, she thinks
two diverging outcomes;
the boy holds himself erect
feels his fate is decided

The man lays his head
in her lap, thick waves
of black thrilling her –
a dead-end street

Is it pride that makes
the boy look away, she
wonders, or am I not
good enough, tainted?

She turns to the older
man, smiles, pull him
to her and surrenders,
darkness a familiar place.

(Decided to resurrect this old poem for Eugi’s Weekly Prompt: romance. Image my own.)


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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

21 thoughts on “Tender Hearts Fall”

  1. Damn. Feels a familiar story tbh, and I’m quite sure it is one for many. Beautifully rendered here. Painful but fairly (and/or unfairly) universal truths.

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      1. We really, really didn’t exactly know, did we? But life taught us about lust early enough… mainly that of other people, it sometimes seemed to me…

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