Ode to the pretty boy in the red shorts

 

It was this wednesday as I got on the 101 bus, a bunch of guys (possibly schooling, I don’t know, they all look very made, with tight shirts and nice shoulders, I saw this one guy in little red shirts, they were not short enough to be short shorts, or long enough to come to the knee, and tight across him bottom, which made my inner girl, purrr, so I need to write this down, you’ll find out why.

When I saw you first you were laughing with your friends,

Snickering and smiling.

School holidays at end.

From the corner of my eye I peeked at your form.

Tight black T-shirt, and those devilish red shorts.

When you got on the bus, I praised my luck.

I really, really, really.

wanted to see your butt.

And so I sidled my sight down,

as you reached up to the railing, your T-shirt slid up.

It was all I could do, to shut my groan up.

Young nubile boys, how you make me blush,

Wide shoulders, nice posteriors and those Adams apple

I just want a touch.

Yet it wasn’t meant to be,

As my bus stop came up.

I choked out excuse me.

And I got the hell out.

Yet you remain in my thoughts,

My sylph in red,

So to you I write this,

Please get out of my head.

I must study for my finals, yet you weave naughty thoughts,

Now shoo you handsome devil,

Red shorts and all.

~M