Beyond My Desk

Long black hair
She drives me crazy with that ponytail
It swings left, then right, and sways like a hidden breeze
Teasing me as she’s looking my way from the corner of her eye
Yet never fully turning to keep me in suspense, as her hair swings on by.

Glasses with thick black frames
Never a skirt, always blue jeans everyday.
But I adore her comfort in her self.
And pity lust of mature mistakes.
She’s what I dream of, an unfrosted cake

Innocents condensed
Like sheep safely fenced
From wild dogs in hunger
And I’m not among her
so does she view me as fanged like the rest?

by Brian (Yaotzu) Bungcayao

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