When does love begin?
A too-hot afternoon
When I was but eighteen.
Sweetly falling,
Mane of red.
Deep doe eyes
That draw me in.
Rough wall against my shoulders
I barely notice.
Leather and green
I long to touch,
But he�s pulled away.
Embarrassed?
Introductions and explanations,
And painful disappointment.
His Partner�
Obscene hair, a vixen�s brush.
It isn�t fair!
I�ll walk away,
Pretend it means nothing.
I tell myself
I�ll forget him.
But he won�t let me.