#leching

I am weak

To the contrariwise

I am weak to black next to white

I am weak to the pleasantly unexpected

Like a sharp tang in my mouth when I expect

The mild.

I am weak.

Any surprise then, Stranger

That I am weak to you.

Weak to you

Because as you passed me by

This warm, pre-summer evening

(Humidity still tolerable

All the fitness fiends walking, jogging, running, panting, regretting, sweating)

I am a lech, I stare at men

From the corner of the eye

(And quiet internal sighs when I report

“There was this creature, unparalleled”)

All men, every man

And there you were

The child of the ordinary

Template, cookie cutter, prefabricated

Mass produced

You looked

Like everyone else

Every other good boy.

And no, it is not an insult

It is

As it is

And I looked because I look

There you were

How many washes had that white tee shirt been through?

And have those track pants started fraying at the crotch?

Build is slight (what a sight!)

And (as always) headphones and glasses

My eyes wanted to

Gloss over you

Pretty (,) ordinary, good boy.

That is till I noticed

Your left arm

Is that? That is

Ink? A sleeve? What is peeking?

What wants to say hi?

There was a punch to my gut

My mouth tasted pleasure

Of the opposite, the contrariwise.

Like  

Violence in a quiet space

Like a guitar riff in a raga  

I cannot see the art in minute but it is there

It burns into my mind’s eye that you exist

A punk fable in a proper stiff spine hardcover.

Wondrous, curious.

My mind turned the knob and your black and white 

Burst into colour.

And I was left quite significantly

Breathless

Murmuring to myself

‘I don’t know why this guy