Through a Bizarre sequence of events
he enters my life.
Suddenly there he is with his Liverpudlian Swagger
The Man With The Yorkshire Blue Eyes.
There he stands, legs apart.
His Socialist ideals stacked atop his Cuban heels.
Trinkets, idolatry, idiosyncrasies adorn his presence.
He’s dressed to kill…your heart.
Fingers with chipped nail polish close
around my cool hand.
Urgent soft lips kiss me between the chatter
of The Man With The Yorkshire Blue Eyes.
I look at him and think
this could be just a chance of getting laid
he looks at her and thinks,
Stale smoke, boozy breath, the smell of sex, we make
our own scent.
Our hearts beat along to music that matters
to The Man With The Yorkshire Blue Eyes.
He whispers to me,
Let it happen, let it be.
And so, we do.