poetry

It was that Pair of Boots.

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artwork by Francesca Strange

It was that pair of boots

Battered and bruised

That made me realise

I needed to have you,

 

Not the whispering touch

Of a finger crossing my back

Or the growing bulge

Of frustration and want.

 

But the coarse leather

And fraying laces,

That only a man

Who has bit on the thick

 

Belt of life, with

Bleeding teeth

And a bleeding ego

Would dare to don.

 

Give them to me young, ambitious

And stupid

And I’ll spit them out, like

Chewed out rubber toys,

 

But give me a man

Who knows better than

To be gentle, and

Fucks like he knows

 

You will not be

His last.

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6 thoughts on “It was that Pair of Boots.”

  4. Pingback: Twinkle Toes | Syncopated Eyeball

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