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Poetry Magnum Opus

Glances


douglas
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I am easily distracted
By my automatic surveyor-thing
That lock-on mechanism inside me
It detects smooth red lips
And artistic finger tips
Handsome jaws
Thighs in tight jeans
Those kinds of things

Statuesque shoulders
Ruffled strands of hair
The faint scent of sensuality
Wisping through the air
Stubble
Casual looks
Round gold glasses
Poetry books
Smiles directed at me
Deep set eyes spying lustfully

Brief love affairs
In the streets
On the trains
Electric glances
Whilst running through
The city's rains.

To receive love, you have to give it...

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As haunting as that James Blunt song "You're Beautiful".....

 

Brief love affairs
In the streets
On the trains

 

Boticelli's guys do the same for me. :)

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I think that the "automatic surveyor- thing" is inherent to most of us negotiating public places. Summed up quite nicely in that last stanza.

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