Enchanting distractions
conjured up in adolescent fantasy
or tremendously tedious math classes,
albeit fascination.
Initial attraction. Opposite sex.
      You begin to notice.
      Long ago.       Remember?
We run through images at night,
even a month ago. recalling wet dreams,
Ninth Grade goddess, slight overbite,
and a couch in the basement, after
a junior-high school dance.
Waltzing then,
      holding another body
      as close as you could.
Nights In White Satin
Stairway To Heaven
The longer the better. Fumbling
with opportunity, taking liberties
as much as chances.
After the dance. Each of us.
      Feeling. Like it mattered.
Permission denied, then granted.
Breath of consent with closed eyes,
nervous smile.
      Teenagers. Enthusiasm greater
than experience.
We didn’t know what romance was, or
the meaning of sensuality, or ecstasy.
Or lust.
      But we knew how it felt.
As we grew older, did we forgot?
      Except in our dreams.

© 2019 j.g. lewis

APRIL IS POETRY MONTH
let the soul wander