Boy

Boy

There was always a bitterness about you.

A sort of self pity and raw intensity.

That got me off.

There was always that sweetness in your touch.

That light brush of your fingertips across my hip.

That made me giggle.

There was always that Georgia drawl.

The one you tried to hide behind your Boston lips.

That made me laugh.

There was always a spark in your heart.

A tiny fire keeping you warm.

That made you human.

There was always that thick gray smoke.

Smoldering away in your pupils.

That made me want you.

But there were other things,

Those T.V. shows.

Those lap dances.

Those drunken calls.

And spilled drinks.

Your unshaven chin.

Your dirty fingernails.

Your smirk.