Old Man's Lap
"I'm gettin' old," he'd say
but to me, he was young
so young, his face told a tale
of trials and tears
and raw love breakin'
all the rules.
So young, I could taste him
on the tip of my tongue
when he kissed me
and curled his fingers
in my hair
like an autumn rake
through sweet messy hay
all rumpled and strewn about
from a romp on his lap
and hot moist air in his ear.
"Yeah, I'm just an old man,"
he'd say, 'cause he knew
I'd have to prove him wrong
one more day.
but to me, he was young
so young, his face told a tale
of trials and tears
and raw love breakin'
all the rules.
So young, I could taste him
on the tip of my tongue
when he kissed me
and curled his fingers
in my hair
like an autumn rake
through sweet messy hay
all rumpled and strewn about
from a romp on his lap
and hot moist air in his ear.
"Yeah, I'm just an old man,"
he'd say, 'cause he knew
I'd have to prove him wrong
one more day.
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