Sirens

You girls are almost too

young for me.

 

Three twenty year olds, all

Bubbly, beautiful, and without

A single care in the

world.

 

Your laughter is intoxicating like

Sirens singing in the distance

Calling me back

home.

 

I’d like to think I know better

Than to get tangled in the depths

of

your dangerous

lips

 

and

your slippery

hair

 

But when push comes to shove

We all really know

How weak

I’d be.