Tree of Adolescence

I sluggishly buzzed around the pollinated enclosure of modern love like a weary bee during an Indian Summer

I took a right and saw you standing there under a flourish of neon lights. The jolt to the system I’d been waiting for

The age gap wasn’t a bother as I walked the tightrope from one side to the other. Silent movies, Tom Waits, street art, you got me in quite a state

You had my stomach tied in knots, then bound them round my hands and feet. Beads of sweat began to group as you held your whip and said, ‘you don’t need to fret’…and that was just the beginning

My age showed as youth took control, as I asked, ‘where did you learn this from and who else have you used that prostate massager on?’

But it was far too late, I was all yours now as you crawled towards me like a wild cat on the prowl

It had only started off as a little choke, but the next thing I knew we were boofing with coke

My excuses were thin as I argued something about plastic straws, but you calmed me down and reassured they were paper, and smiled at me with a baneful grin

Then three months in after I’d been banking on a two week fling, we went on an 18-30’s. I tried to explain, ‘I’m four years expired.’ ‘Aww, look at you, just take half of this and I promise you, you won’t be feeling as tired.’

On the way back, the bags around my eyes had to get stored in the hold due to their over the limit weight and size

Then up in the air about a mile high, you stroked my thigh to let me know you were feeling a little frisky. You talked to me about an exclusive club, I said, ‘No way man, that’s far too risky.’

But your powers of persuasion left me at your mercy, as I walked up the aisle listening out for a clack, praying for engine failure, or a terrorist attack

The rattling chamber was tight for two. As we kissed and caressed my worries abated, as you gasped out for more like a spirit possessed. But before too long there was a knock at the door, ‘You need to come out’, said the voice close to a roar.

‘That’s it, I’m done.’ But as I made my move you held my arm and said, ‘Where you going? I want some more.’ I said, ‘I’m sorry, but back to my seat, I’m off to watch the ending of Thor.’

Now, a bowl should be filled with fruit and not keys. ‘I’ll give you some safe words – Please let me leave.’ I prayed for a life of dull polyester clothing and nothing that intrinsically came with dolorogenic zoning

Then, one night as I lay awake, desperately searching for a route to escape, you turned and said it’s over. You wanted a more mature man. Someone who could satisfy your needs. You abruptly left mumbling about hoping to find some sort of closure

And just like that, the branch I had clung to on the tree of adolescence snapped. And as I hit the bottom, a wave of ambivalence washed over me as I lay in a state of convalescence.

Published by Christopher Moore

Poems, short stories and gibberish. In no particular order.

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