You stroke my shoulder or my upper arm
in passing. Hardly pause as you walk by
but then look back and smile. Although I sigh
shudder a moment, I remain quite calm
you have not touched me deeper than my skin
I tell myself breath in and breathe again
after some small delay. I know the main
thing is to pass it off, and not give in
You look so damned smug and I want to kiss
arrogance hard away from that soft mouth
then kiss your neck and move my kisses south.
But I will not. And my best reason is
some lusts end up immortalised in song,
most start as muddle, then go badly wrong.