Sugar Rush

I had noted the seductive sultriness of your green eyes

your oaken hair

your smoky breath

your thighs, your belly, their junction

I had bundled feelings into a bag called Love

that should rightly have been called Desire or Lust

or some other more animalistic function

And so to fashion some sort of introduction

where none could be found naturally

I walked the dark passage to your door

knocked to say hello and see

if you could lend me sugar

a cupful

a spoonful

perhaps a small granulated cliché

You

invited me in

with the sultry seductiveness of your green eyes

your oaken hair

those thighs, that belly and the triangulated junction of the two

while you, seeking

the fundamentally unnecessary

sat me in the kitchen

plied me with tea

although you had no need so to do

but proved yourself as amiable

as you were desirable

I was buoyed by the scent of your sex

the musk of you as you curled

around me in your kitchen

the whisper of whirled air

caught in the vortex of your movements

swift

soft, yet

deliberate

You smiled sunshine onto the tiles

wiped up my nervousness

with a damp cloth

while my heart danced

and then I loved only you

forever

and I painted images

with the eye of my mind

of us

old

with the children visiting

and grand children

named after us

while you talked of nosey neighbours

and bus routes

and the lack of good shops

And so when I left

with the sugar

I was swinging

through the clouds

on my way home

as high as a simile

Yet only when I

sat in my kitchen 

poured the sugar

into my lap

as if it were

your fingers

undoing me

only then

did I realise

you were just

being neighbourly

because after all you were just

my neighbour

and the empty cup

crashed

to the floor

as I sobbed 

syrupy tears