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My Young Girl Twenties

"It's not love, "
I said
"it's my Young Girl
caught in the glare of his attentions
basking, unable to look away,
held in the Grip of his Intensities
He's my Adventure
something which crashes into my need
to experience
beyond thought and feeling
larger than even
rationality."

"Have you asked him about his feelings"
she said, "about you? "

"I asked him" she said
"he didn't answer
couldn't articulate
Shrugging the Shrug
of the Twenty Something;
a Muted Muttering
about wanting to feel everything about me
push me to some limit
of my needs, my sexuality
my love, my fears
and I was a Faberge Egg
wanting him
to do all those things
be his accomplice
sooner or later to cry diamonds
when it is over."

My Young girl
wants it
wants to see if
and when
how I break
rebel or take
what he is offering.

I want to lay down with
that Danger
his Young Boy represents
imbibe all
its excitements
we both taking advantage
of Life's Reckless Expediency
the coin in trade of someone
like me in my twenties
choosing
each day
to stay or walk away
from relationships.

My Young Girl wants to
shed her innocence
spectacularly
and if I am honest
I want the sheer variety
to continue on
after him
to see what is more
in the Young Boys
I'm yet to encounter.

Is that crazy
wanting to live
without caution or regret
vulnerable
yet still confident
of survival?
Is that possible? "

"Maybe, " she said
'maybe not.'

poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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