I want to take you out to a fancy restraunt,
and sit in the booth opposite of you
while we have a few drinks,
and throw little balled up pieces of tissue,
or whatever else would make a light and fluffy projectile,
just above the hoop shaped seam of your blouse's neckline,
and bounce them off the back board of your collar bone,
so that they fall into the ever so satisfying space between your breast;
I wonder how many it would take to fill.
You probably think this sounds childish,
but if you prefer playing base ball
I might just steal second base.
So what do you say, are you game?
YOU ARE READING
Thresheld
PoetryMy life is a series of thresholds that I overcome through poetry. Love, loss, pain, regret, humor, irony, word play, and even sarcasm are as much apart of my life as they are central to my poems here. I am Thresheld. UPDATE: It's been quite a few ye...
