Sitting On A Bus With A Hard-On

My skin burns
Caressed by the light
Of a distant star

Idle thoughts

Seductive

Elusive in manner

Leave me adrift
In a sea of dark matter

I blink
Realising the time

Departure time

Outside
The sky thunderously applauds
Giving thanks

Not for I

Rather the salving rain
Full of her imagined scent
Which doesn’t quite douse
The flames of memory

So I sit here
Bag on lap
Imagining a cool Kentucky night

Writing with you

In the rain

© 2008, Mosquitobyte