Perhaps, after the rest
God created her on the eighth day
Her mould was from plasticine, not clammy clay
Carving out excess, trimming out a slender waist
Her hips bud beautifully, from her fairy frame and sway
Fast forward, I made contact- no fear for a tick either blue or grey
Wonder of wonders, all she said was yes
Out on a date, with all the costs on my plate? Yes.
Endless talk time, I'm footing the rate? Yes.
Could we cuddle in a candlelit serenade? Yes.
Stealthily steal a conceited kiss? Yes.
Wine and whiskey, wheeling us into a bliss? Yes.
Damn girl! Why me?
Yes, you Eugene
No man has pleased my ailing soul
My heart always dark and foul
Your radiance set it ablaze
Never have I felt this love, I guess-
You love me?
as a friend.