primitive and graceless

oh girl, whose love i have not tasted whose gaze always steadies on mine from across the road i see your eyes as ours meet exposing tender desire a quiver on your smile i ask you come to me tonight

your lips hungry as they collide into me bodies crashing into a sea of blankets and raw skin unrepentant with the loss of righteousness of self control primitive and graceless

until we can finally breathe together

aware that this moment will never sprout into a mighty oak the ruby red maple or the burning bush

uncertain unprepared and finally secure in that knowledge that we will never be more

than just the boy and the girl treading the fine line between neighbors lovers and friends

written in repose to Dead Poets Live prompt