I've clearly lost it.
I'm not the man I was when I was a boy,
when I was able to
convince all the girls
in the theater where I worked
to spend some time in
the balcony with me,
needing no stiff
drink to keep me firm,
only the feel of a breast I snuck with early caress,
some telling me I was
going too far
even as they let me,
age having worn me down like
water dripping on a stone,
shaping me into a shadow of
who I was and what I am capable of.
This not for lack of desire,
perhaps made worse for the intensity of it,
feeling as if i don't deserve that which i ache for,
and so cannot live up
to it,
when the whole thing falls into my lap,
needing t, aching for
it,
only to disappoint
myself at that critical juncture
when I can't give her all that she deserves,
a stone ground down
into sand.
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