Poetry

Petals of the Last Red Rose

I remember when I first introduced you as a friend
Just a smile,
Just a laugh,
It all started with just a hug
My dad was a just and upright man
So you knew how things were going to end
Those thin butterflies in my stomach each time I see him.
I was losing my shit, losing my thing.
For real I’d laugh each time I heard his name.

I was not used to this, neither was he,
He spoke to me in unhuman language most times,
Casi be no way lava?
If this is a game then it’s insane.
How do you miss someone so much and want to see him?
Then what you do, you just act stupid and can’t talk
This is love! And I love him.

He confirmed his with a kiss
my heart stopped
my heart raced
in an asthmatic pace
Soon his kiss became a signature on my lips, cheeks, forehead and my forehand.
Then he tried with my butt,
“Stop I can’t do this,
If this is love then count me out.”

He loves me, he loves me not
As I count the petals of the last red rose
J’aime the sound of his French accent
His smell filled the whole room
His muscular palms
The white polo I love best with the blue jeans
His voice when he sang
and wrote to me
Focus and concentration they always had a vacation
when I was with him.

I am old enough to love, I’d ponder
Barely eighteen, is this what love is?
I am a teenager in love, and I think I’m doing great!
He is a great guy
and a great one at that.

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