Seven

Familiar wafts of scent flow from her hair—

A hug elicits flashbacks in your mind.

A Pink Floyd concert back in ‘94—

A moment frozen in its place and time.

Her breasts, pressed against your chest as if

She wants to send a message with her bust.

And suddenly you recall regal riffs

Which play inside your head. Their lovely lust—

You wonder if she ever hears them too.

An eavesdrop on the workings of your brain—

And if she did then what on Earth she’d do.

To know your thoughts, she’d think you were insane.

You wonder about asking her to dance.

Then later hear about her gay romance.