Nubile Flesh

When on the street my eyes do rest,
Upon a piece of nubile flesh,
He reminds me a bit of you,
Or some other boy that I once knew.

And so as we lock eyes,
I allow myself to fantasize,
That in another place and time,
That for one night he could be mine.

But in his eyes not that lingering look ,
And so it seems I have mistook,
This boy for a potential lover,
I’m old enough to be his mother.

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6 thoughts on “Nubile Flesh

  1. I don’t know how I got so old. I seem to have crossed some line, and now I can’t tell the difference between 10 year olds and college students. I like the painting that accompanies your poem.

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