DANGEROUS
There is the scent of a woman
in the air.
I'm excited,
my mouth doesn't work
and my mind has stalled.
Like a kid in a candy store
I want everything.
She fusses with her hair
and looks into the mirror.
She pouts
her bee stung lips
and I forget what I'm thinking.
It must be spring
the time when men trade their brains
for hormones.
I saw the dogwood blossoms
and thought
the world, at least this part of it,
reeks of sex and renewal.
Women display
and men gawk.
Her boyfriend
is here to shepherd
his won ticket on her lottery
and all the rest can do
is flirt and dream.
She leaves debris
of hairpins and tissues
of blotted lipstick
and I
pick them up
from unexpected places.
I haven't felt this way
since my last blast
of hormonal insanity
years ago.
Do I want to repeat
that debacle
at this time?
I think not,
these
emotions and feelings
are far too
dangerous.
Still... it's nice to know
the machinery still works.