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.

Maybe Not

I’m sitting in the coffee shop
And I see you
across the room
Gosh, how many years has it been?
It would be great
Just to talk
About what we’ve done with our lives
Over the years
And then I catch
My reflection in the mirror
And think oh no
Maybe not.

photo credit: http://jambos-reviews.blogspot.com/

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/10/weekly-writing-challenge-golden-years/