Ode to Lust
His silence outlines His beauty, As does His shy demeanor.
A small tug of His faded plaid shirt sends me into blind ecstasy.
Mutual acquaintances have brought US together But not nearly
as together as I’d like. Waist; Body; Beauty; Smile. A shy smile with
His eyes down. Bliss; He gives me a loud peace. Heart, jumping in
my throat—Will this ever be? Leaving him Irks me, Twists me,
Burns me, But I must. Unaware He is of my lust For Him.
Pushing me into the unknown Without the satisfaction of
Knowing Him, Having Him, or Loving Him—
I’m Left with my lust and His faded plaid shirt.
He slinks to his place under the tree, carrying his bag of art that swings
against his slender legs, and he sits on a leaf-littered patch of grass
that’s surely brown beneath the dull oranges and yellows of the leaves
that are also beneath him. And as he sits, his shirt lifts up, revealing just
a taste of that delightful flat stomach, which is only one thing
of beauty about this boy. There’s a list. A long list of beauty and perfection
and even grace as he taps his feet on the ground and drums his fingers on
his lean thighs, listening to whatever music is his preference.
I can’t help staring and I can’t help feeling like I’m stalking this boy that’s
just a few years younger than myself. But his beauty enthralls me,
hypnotizes me, and I can’t look away. Until he looks in my direction
then my eyes go north, east, south, west, whatever direction he’s not in.
But seconds later I’m back to taking in the shape of his torso and
the strong muscles of his forearms that are revealed by rolled up sleeves.
Then, I’m back to his lean thighs and the way they taper down to his
thin, but strong and firm calves.
He looks over in my direction once again, this time I’m frozen and can’t
look away. He smiles and my body starts to tremble and I feel as if I could
crumble away at any moment.
He arose from his patch of grass, leaving his bag of art behind him.
Now he’s next to me and I can’t seem to open my mouth to say a
simple “Hello”. He’s silent as well, but then he Kisses me, Kisses me
Kisses me—Now I’m back to reality; Staring into space. I look to the
left a bit and he’s there still—now lying on his patch of grass —listening
and tapping and drumming.
Oh my God! It’s David. What do I do? What do I say?
How do I portray my feelings for you without sounding completely gay?
Oh David, your beauty, your perfection silences me, it leaves me
without the natural reflex that I most need to live, to go on.
Your shy little smile, your thin little waist, your long slender legs,
and your cute little face makes me want you in a way that should
not be said aloud to you or to anyone.
I don’t know you and I don’t care to. I just want to worship
you, I just want to lust over you—David. You and your tri-colored
plaid shirts and your tight thigh hugging black jeans. That’s it.
That’s all I need—To vicariously gain pleasure
Through your glorious perfection.
A small tug of His faded plaid shirt sends me into blind ecstasy.
Mutual acquaintances have brought US together But not nearly
as together as I’d like. Waist; Body; Beauty; Smile. A shy smile with
His eyes down. Bliss; He gives me a loud peace. Heart, jumping in
my throat—Will this ever be? Leaving him Irks me, Twists me,
Burns me, But I must. Unaware He is of my lust For Him.
Pushing me into the unknown Without the satisfaction of
Knowing Him, Having Him, or Loving Him—
I’m Left with my lust and His faded plaid shirt.
He slinks to his place under the tree, carrying his bag of art that swings
against his slender legs, and he sits on a leaf-littered patch of grass
that’s surely brown beneath the dull oranges and yellows of the leaves
that are also beneath him. And as he sits, his shirt lifts up, revealing just
a taste of that delightful flat stomach, which is only one thing
of beauty about this boy. There’s a list. A long list of beauty and perfection
and even grace as he taps his feet on the ground and drums his fingers on
his lean thighs, listening to whatever music is his preference.
I can’t help staring and I can’t help feeling like I’m stalking this boy that’s
just a few years younger than myself. But his beauty enthralls me,
hypnotizes me, and I can’t look away. Until he looks in my direction
then my eyes go north, east, south, west, whatever direction he’s not in.
But seconds later I’m back to taking in the shape of his torso and
the strong muscles of his forearms that are revealed by rolled up sleeves.
Then, I’m back to his lean thighs and the way they taper down to his
thin, but strong and firm calves.
He looks over in my direction once again, this time I’m frozen and can’t
look away. He smiles and my body starts to tremble and I feel as if I could
crumble away at any moment.
He arose from his patch of grass, leaving his bag of art behind him.
Now he’s next to me and I can’t seem to open my mouth to say a
simple “Hello”. He’s silent as well, but then he Kisses me, Kisses me
Kisses me—Now I’m back to reality; Staring into space. I look to the
left a bit and he’s there still—now lying on his patch of grass —listening
and tapping and drumming.
Oh my God! It’s David. What do I do? What do I say?
How do I portray my feelings for you without sounding completely gay?
Oh David, your beauty, your perfection silences me, it leaves me
without the natural reflex that I most need to live, to go on.
Your shy little smile, your thin little waist, your long slender legs,
and your cute little face makes me want you in a way that should
not be said aloud to you or to anyone.
I don’t know you and I don’t care to. I just want to worship
you, I just want to lust over you—David. You and your tri-colored
plaid shirts and your tight thigh hugging black jeans. That’s it.
That’s all I need—To vicariously gain pleasure
Through your glorious perfection.