Random thoughts from different corners of a mind in flux.
I do not love you
Like the way those teenagers do.
I love the fall of your velvet skirt
I love the waves
I love the crests
I love how you look at me
With that new burgundy gloss
I cannot love you
Like teenagers do.
Wow! ...wonderfully adult without implications that being adult means sinking into illicit, pornographic poetic images... There is a place for in-your-face rawness in poetry, and rawness shouldn't be forbidden; but your wonderful string of ordinary words into a beautiful poetic structure is just right. Thanks, Rajesh.