Why I Stare at You -- Extremities

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Subject: Why I Stare at You

Author:
Stephen Collicoat

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Date Posted: 21:48:06 07/16/05 Sat

Dirty creep,
Staring from a bench.
Think at his age,
He'd know better.
Should be locked away.

But, this isn't sex.
Nothing that it seems.
It's mind hunger
And heart thirst.

A gutshot ache for youth and grace.
Sorrow in the blood.
Memories of winding summer days
And trackless winter skies.

And how I long
To sip you
In a tall, slim, frosted glass.
Crumble your flesh into fragments
Like fresh-baked, golden bread.

It isn't the stars that frighten.
It's the spaces in between.
I must break off from staring.
You'll never understand.

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