ILLusions

Let me tell you distance wishin is the worst
It’s like a curse
Seein something so perfect
Is it worth it
Touched hands on the train
I remember
It was December
The coldest day of winter
Then you entered
Smelling of sensual cologne
I smiled out a moan
Damn this stranger
Is turning me on
That’s when it happened
It was static
It was magic
It was over
But still I think about it
I rub my hand on the spot
Train brakes and comes to a stop
Last stop conductor yells
No one moves I can’t tell
But in my nose there is a smell
Mr. sweet and sensual cologne
Is on the train but he’s not alone

Wishful Thinking

MzP

co.Katman.2007