nathan lyle


January 21st, 1998

Her ass is a light that guides me across campus
Tortured moth that I am
Pavlov would have been proud of my constant performance
But my mother would probably frown
The girl next to me in class just leaned over for a book
Bless her exposed soul!
I try to pretend not to notice while I longingly look
Where the hell does my restraint come from?
One would think I'd be less shy with so much desire
But lust has no way with words
Sometimes I feel smart, when not overcome by primitive fire
But me have no endurance
Occasionally the fates will mediate and she'll break the ice
Not that much is frozen over here
And I rejoice in every second of her voice, and the sight,
And wallow in every gift from my senses
There's times when the distance between our faces
Seems close enough to hope
My brain splits in two—one talks and one kisses
I wish I did less talking
When I can think about it, it seems more trouble than it's worth
This chemical and obsessive attraction
But it's a prison sentence that feels damned good to serve
I'd bet real money that I'm in for life