contemplativeI usually do free form poetry when I am flustered on a subject. Elegant prose escapes me. I've heard amazingly handsome people say that they are clueless when confronted with probable flirting. Is it flirting, was it flirting? There are more questions than answers as we flirt and flit.
Flirt and Flit
Poem for Day 148 – 20150528
We flirt and flit,
and move about,
seeking contact
with ones like us.
A signal there,
a touch felt there,
and still we wonder
if this is real.
Could another want
the same as us,
predilections
of all types,
some to be spoken
in company,
others to be
whispered
in proximity?
Do they really
speak with a voice
that touches us here,
and probes there,
deep down inside
where none have tread?
The light flickers,
awake the sleeper,
the need is there,
an itch concealed,
yet doubt visits
the awakened one.
Is the interest a
misunderstanding,
mistaken gestures
with another one
seeking contact,
or not perhaps,
how can I tell?
© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved
