If I was your date, I'd try to be sweeter
than any other fruit, hotter than the land,
that grows me, stickier, than
chewing gum, and honey.

If I was your date, I'd remind you that,
You can't have me for more than a day,
for I'm a polyamorist, I love everybody.
I'd remind you that I could be your last,
someday, any day. But that shouldn't,
stop you from loving me, right now.

If I was your date, I would share
my gaze of you, in the silent reflections,
of my convex eyes,
tell you that on this date,
you are the only 01.01.01

I’ve tried really, really hard
to not look like I’m trying-
See? I am Super Girlie-Girl
for one night only.
Every detail attended to.
I’m even wearing kitten heels
for ****’s sake.
(quite literally, I think)
I’ve gone for pretty…
(or as close as age allows)
... not at all scary.
I’ve no idea what we’ll talk about but,
so far, I’ve managed to say hi
and not stare at his hands.
Still thinking ‘bout them though.
I’ve seen him play guitar-
‘nough said.
He’s grinning and I wonder,
briefly-
If I might’ve let slip as words
some of these thoughts but,
since no one near by is rolling round on the floor
******* themselves laughing-
I think I’m safe.
He’s just given me the most beautiful flowers.
The deepest red roses, all half-opened velvety buds
and frothy white gypsophila.
(it’s one of those bouquets)
Closer,
almost burying my face in the petals-
they smell delicious.
That's done it.
Even without a context- that word turns me on
but now?
My brain is seriously misfiring.
Pinging thoughts and words and images around
like a demonic pinball machine.
Oh Dear God-
I hope he’s not a mind reader.
How long, do you think- can I stay
hidden here in these (delicious) flowers?
How long before I need to try one?
Before the urge to lick and taste and bite-
overcomes me?
That just wouldn’t be cool, would it?
Not on a first date.

I get distracted by little things
It looks like I’m hunting love
I know I want Love
But then I get distracted by simple momentary things
I know who I am supposed to ask out on a date
But, seems easier to ask someone else
Because I’m too scared to fall for that person
And get “we’re just friends” as a response.
“Hey I love you why you telling me your dramas about the guys you like but end up lying and hurting you?”
I think
But I never say
I just listen
“Don’t be fooled” I say
“I won’t” she says
Weeks later she telling me the same old stories
“Try me”
I think
But I never say
“What if she is telling me to ask her to be mine? What is she thinking?”
I think to myself
Gosh, I wish I wasn’t too scared to lose you as a friend
I wish you knew I mean it when I say I missed you every time I see you after two, four or eight months
I wish you were mine
Just mine
I fantasize about the things we could be doing if we were together
Then I remember what we had
Were we too fast?
Was it a perfect thing on a bad time?
I don’t know, but
I loved every little moment
I told her she’s one of the best things that ever happened in my life
I meant it
When did we **** this up?
When did we become just friends?
Am I in love?
How can I win her back?

(to be continued)

.
No my Darling, that is not snow.
Its not winter, it should be colder.
No my Darling, that is not snow.
Its just dandruff on your shoulder.

No my Dear, I am not in pain.
Neither am I hurting, or showing grief.
No my Dear, I am not in pain.
Its the lettuce in between your teeth.

Yes my Love, I am listening.
I was just temporarily distracted.
Yes my Love, I am listening.
But your friend is so attractive.

No my Sweet, its not that draughty.
Its not windy, you've got it wrong.
No my Sweet, its not that draughty.
Your skirts caught in your thong.

No my Darling, that is not snow.
It can't be true, its a wrong fact.
No my Darling, that is not snow.
Its just ******* on your compact.


© Pagan Paul (31/03/17)

At dinner for two
I chose a tasting menu.

Chatter was pleasant,
Until the sous-vide pheasant.

Conversation digressed:
My faults were expressed.

I did not forsee,
A deconstructed m
                                 e.

His hands were callused and cracked
They were rough on my cheek
I had never been pulled in the way Clark Gable pulls them in
Like in all of those movies I had seen when I was a kid
The way I had always practiced
Back then my ringtone was the sound of bells chiming
More specifically the bells of Notre Dame
As his stubble grazed mine they rang out
He let go of my face, his untrimmed nails scratched my chin
I would weep for hours that night
Stare into the dark corners of my room
Trying to identify all of the shadows I used to think were scary
I knew now what scary really was
Scary was his hand on my rib cage
Scary was liking it
He never did call
I changed my ringtone to the whistle from Robin Hood
I was set up on a date by my best friend
She was kind
Her hands were soft and smelled like Love Spell by Victoria’s Secret
She had no stubble to graze mine
She pressed her lips on the scratch he left on my chin with his untrimmed fingernails
And I flinched
This too was scary
This too I liked

It wasn't exactly a date
It was a lot more like fate
She was sitting on the gate

She had such a purty face
She'd look good in boots and lace
She was all beauty and grace

I sauntered up special like
I was more than a little tyke
I asked her to take a hike

We wandered to my fine mare
I felt like a millionaire
She chatted without a single care

She rubbed on that silky mane
Her name was Dorothy Jane
To hold her hand, my campaign

Her hand so sweet and so fine
Fit exactly into mine
My first date was so sublime

As time on the clock face ticks
I still remember the kicks
Even though I was just six

I beg you,

Daylight,
Let the sun radiates for a worthwhile
Let the rough wind turns its route for a worthwhile
Let the road clear its way for a worthwhile
Let the rain come, only to stop by for a worthwhile


I beg you,

Moonlight,
Let the small talks stream into branches not for awhile,
Let the laughter echoes, caves in everything through not for awhile,
Let the pause in-between sentences, silenced by hesitant gaze not for awhile
Let the affection grow, the two loud beating drums, only for them to hear, not for a while

i can't wait to cuddle with
you at a coffee shop,
on a bench,
with the smell of coffee beans,
and you,
blending into a gentle symphony.

i'd have a mint latte,
and maybe we could share,
and i'll say something stupid
like thank you for the day.
or i really like you.
instead of
freaking kiss me, okay?

then you could walk me
home, my heart
dancing on the way.