My take on The Living Poetry word prompt – Neighbor with a short story
It’s the neighbourhood gardening day.
Tom blushed when she handed him pine straws to put on the top soil of the roses. Electricity passed through from her pale fingers to his knuckle. No one noticed any strangeness of his raw red face because they thought he was just bothered by the heat. She offered him a cold drink, home made lemonade. He gladly accepted it for another chance to be electrocuted by her womanly touch. He swallowed the water hard feeling the movement of his own throat. Thank God for the cold lemonade to put out some fire.
She rested one leg up on a garden chair dusting some dirt off her shoe. She looked up and smiled at him while changing to the other leg. Tom was instantly overcome by a warm gush in his crotch. He ran straight back towards his house, almost knocked down his mother.
He locked his bedroom door, pulled the curtain shut and dropped his pants. He masturbated almost violently with the flashing images of her angling her leg in front of her bathroom mirror and shaving delicately between her thighs. The second waves hit him soon after. He was swept away by the combination of heat exhaustion and orgasmic pleasure. Then came the shame of being a teenage boy peeping on his neighbour who is his mother’s age.
I've been searching for the glorious stars in the ebony sky
forgetting the prolonged Southern monsoon season.
When the shooting stars gathered to attract my attention,
I was blind to their unifying light
and missed the splendid meteor.
Not everything has to be sexual!
They aren’t? So tell me, what are your bare legs and overflowing breasts for?
They are my best features and assets. A bit of showing is a reflection of my new found confidence.
Oh! Apologies for overlooking the depth of its meaning. It’s hard to be philosophical about it when they scream ‘Fuck me!’.
(Silence is the answer.)
He used to bring me lavenders at sunset
The subdued scent lulled me into peaceful sleep
I blushed when dreaming your fingers subtlety brushed my hand
Before sunrise I'd already waited patiently by the window
We were once young and wild
Skinny dipped under the pale moonlight
Beach bums in the California hot sun
Enjoyed onlookers’ glancing
In years gone by
We look at each other
Beer gut and love handles
burst out laughing
We are playful and happy
I once was a poet
Lego words made a hollow soul
Men fell under my empty sword
I was so very lost
When you read my words now
I am as plain as I can be
No fluff, no bluff, no hidden love notes
A life putting myself on display
Ironically, all is vanity