Girls Like Me
I don’t know what it was;
the age-gap thing, perhaps...
my prudishness...Sheer stupidity,
when I look back now – rain
deluging the windows, in this
crap flat of mine.
All it would have taken – a quick
look at you...that way. A brush
of my hand with yours.
You’d dropped a hint you were free
to stay, when you dropped me back
at my place, after that fruitless
business trip to Scotland. A waste
of time...if not for this.
I could have blossomed for you;
unfurled like a custard-cupped,
Chinese Peony, or an Adonis Blue
breaking free from its shell...
Could have settled, breathless,
and panting, on your palm
with quivering wings, and you
could have taught me to fly....
Or, better still, I could have
just asked you to fuck me, right
then and there. Why didn’t I?
Because girls like me wouldn’t
ever dream of saying the ‘F’ word.
But if I had...on that lonely,
mountain road...after, we could
have walked the beauty of Loch Tay;
let it ramble on, way ahead of us...
off the lead...and more likely,
as not, to go astray.