Featured Post: If You Could Be Mine – M.A. Morris

Friends surprise with a birthday dinner.
Then out to the bar for a few drinks.
They laugh and wink
When a tiny little thing
With long, dark shining hair
That looks so velvety soft
That to touch it would be
To fall up into a rural night sky
Of inky black laced
With the light of
A thousand stars,
Smiles at me,
And with the encouragement of her friends,
Asks me for a dance.
But she is young,
Much too young for me.

But I like the way she moves as if just for me.
I think I could do this just like I used to in my youth.
Something stirs within as if of old muscle memory
Of how to divorce the physical from the spiritual.
Yes, just like in my youth.
I could take her home,
Whisper things like,
“If you could be mine….”
And really go to town.
This funk I’m in
Kicked to the curb
For a few hours.

At least, until
I kick her to the curb
By asking her to leave.
What would the point of all that be?
To feel young and carefree?
Yes, for a few hours at least.
Better, I do think,
Just to drink
Tequila shots
Until the thinking stops.
Call an Uber for a ride.
Nurse my head in the morning.
And then sleep nearly all day.
But that’s just not really me
To waste such a day.

So, until the time she asks
For a dance not of the vertical variety,
Forcing a “no” as my only reply,
I think I will stay
And watch her sway,
Just for me
at least, I’d like to think,
Maybe throw back
One of the shots she buys
And just relax
At least for this while,
Wishing I was young enough
For her to be mine.


I am a retired teacher, enjoying said retirement.  I have been active in the gay and lesbian community since I threw away my Ken doll at the age of four.

You can read more of my writing at Hearing The Mermaids Sing

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