Sweet, innocent smiles
Lead to butterflies
Lead to conversations
Lead to making a date
Leads to watching a movie
Leads to hand holding
Leads to long gazes
Leads to kissing
Groping hands sliding pants to knees.
Is that what we're supposed to expect now?
Is everything just a means to that ultimate goal?
That primal prize every atom in our bodies craves?
Clothes drop to the floor without a second thought.
Bodies rub each other raw for that false reward,
Even with the knowledge that htere is no love in desperate lust.
Why do we seek satisfaction in such empty practice?
What is there to gain?
A shallow connection to another being?
We treat oceans as puddles,
Splashing through but never exploring the depths.
We fear the depths because we have explored before.
And found pain where we expected treasure.
And so we splash.
What kind of life is that?