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For the little ones...

This night, that one,
One touch...one feel
So many years
and nothing sets
anyone apart
It's just the mess
It's just the sweat
It's just a thrust
It's just a bed
Love comes again
In another name
It's not the love
It's just the sigh,
the slow, soft moaning
of a woman
who's felt the same
so many times before
It's not the girl,
the naive purity partner
It' s not the whore
Turning face away
In self satisfied detachment
It' s just the woman
What's that word called love?
What juvenile delusions,
better left behind
When you grow up,
you learn to move on
Little girls in little worlds
Learn to grow wings
someday
It's not a bitch
disilluioned or dead
It's just learning
It's just sex

Comments

Wanderlust said…
Oh! that's wonderful.....truly slowly and steadily one learns the true meaning, the essence of love.....its all a matter of opening your eyes wide and welcoming the world with open arms that lies there so beautiful just to take you into its loving embrace,and make you rejoice that blissful ignorance and innocence that one once might have faced when a lil girl,so lost in her world of eternal, undiluted joy :).....i really liked the post...yeah, guess i need to believe that there is a bright new day after every night....after all every cloud has a silver lining, right???...*a warm hug* to you
Thursday, 09 March, 2006
Camphor said…
Does it ever end?

Should one want it to end?

For every cycle to be fundamentally the same, and slightly different - that slight difference being called learning?
Saturday, 11 March, 2006
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