Just Sometimes by Neil McCall
Sometimes
it just takes you like that;
whether it's the moon
or the saxophone solo
or the booze binge
and any other
could be significant
that night
freeze-framed
on a painted backdrop.
If it's just lips
or a touch of tongue
you've probably got away lightly;
for once in a while
you really need to
be pinned in a corner
and feel fifteen again
and wilfully wanted
as a comforting prelude
to going home alone.
But that one time
it might not be
just a bit of fun;
if you've had a row,
if the wine is strong,
if the guitarist's good,
if the hotel's round the corner
and you wake
to find strange eyes
dulled in the daylight
calling you a bastard.
