The Boy Across the Bar

A poem about romance

It was 1am, amidst the peak of the night. In a room layered thick with flashing and light. Beating and alive, full of sweat covered souls. So crowded and manic, as the music unrolls.

Yet amongst all the noise, the chaos, the dance, I spotted a boy and we shared a brief glance. He glowed beneath a spotlight, blindingly clear, A beauty so loud it was all I could hear.

His smile, it was real. Not drawn on, not fake. It’s power unyielding, all those hearts it’d break. And those eyes, those eyes, those eyes, those eyes. Thoughtful, for sure. With starbursts inside.

So I stepped slightly to him and inched to the bar. Within hours I knew him. Every pet, every scar. Relaying his story, voice velvet and low. A gentleman, this boy, that much I do know.

He wouldn’t dare kiss you, if the timing was wrong. If your ex was around or you’d brought grandma along. But man is he passionate when the moment is right. He’ll pull you in close and when he kisses —

— he’ll bite.