DON'T THROW YOUR LOVE AWAY.

A YOUTH AND AWOMAN OF THE NIGHT.

Don't throw
your love away,
I heard her say
one day.

She was sitting in a chair
with moonlight in her hair,
brushing her fingers
through the long locks
giving me looks.

I give no love away;
I spend it wisely,
I replied
(although I knew
I lied).

Real love is not
to be wasted,
she said
with a slight toss
of her head,
then went and lay
on the bed, and lying
back down on the bed,
indicated I lay
beside her
if I dare
or if cared to;
(I hesitated
what to do).

I won't bite,
she said.

I took in
the nightdress
she wore:
a dull red.

Not what I heard,
I told her.

She smiled
(the kind of smile
to drive me wild).

Well come try;
don't be shy,
she uttered
looking at me
temptingly
(silly me).

Do I dare?
(the T.S. Eliot poem
came to mind).

Come on,
she said,
don't keep me
waiting alone.

I stood looking at her
lying there:
do I dare to
eat a peach?
Or suck her fruits?

Taste my ware,
she said
with a slight shake
of her head.

Not sure,
I replied.

She lay back
and sighed:
don't throw
your love away,
I heard her say,
let me be
your testing ground.

I gazed at her
taking in her soft fruits,
but made no sound.