The Time Machine
Small device with an illuminated button face
It took me back back back
It vibrated and his picture showed up
I hit the green button and his voice transported me
We've not spoken in a while
Usually, I don't care
Today was different
His voice to my nerves...
Like Mozart's fingers on keys
And only because right now...I'm feeling lonely
Feeling neglected
Feeling horny
But the path to him is brambled and thorny
Pain and shame lie in wait
Ready to accost me
He would cost me my self-respect
So, I check the clock
Make small talk
And leave the reverie right where it belongs
Something in the past
1 comment:
Temptation. Hmm... Good poem :). Curious to see where the poem ends up.
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