Sarah Hill
this spine tingling reaction that flushed testosterone from heads to toe
sketched out sometime from ~july or august 2012
and triggered a chain reaction
of wishful desires in overdrive seeing this aesthetically pleasing gal
in the summer of her full feminine bloom
(and yes, young enough to be me an splendid supreme offspring
of this gap toothed fifty three year old simian)
whose primary purpose comprises tutoring my daughter
born with cognitive plus developmental delays
and whose academic weakness qualified her since birth - or soon thereafter
to receive intervention to allow, enable and provide her with life skills
so she can become self reliant upon an adult
thus bringing this papa thru the aegis of said progeny
exposure sans young women (who seem prominent in social service field)
many blindsiding these myopic eyes with hypnotic trance
conjuring up illusions of grandeur
kept under lock and key lest detriment
comprises instructing requisite basic skills per youngest progeny Shana
the punim in question recipient of private lessons
in the rudiments of classroom ABC's
yet a quiet riot along the super hidden highway within my imagination
achingly longs to compose a poem for this righteous dignified dame
whose voice like melody ineluctably seduces me and athletic physique
goads this married father to attempt some organization of his awakened
dormant libido (bereft within thine marriage) toward some unknown outcome
without intent to convey other than a message of unequivocal charm
minus any additional intent for physical interaction.
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