The Professor sits in a
student's desk then
He stands at a podium
Walking back and forth to and fro
in constant motion
whilst lecturing
And I feel his azure eyes--or are they celestial blue?
fall upon my dark chocolate
in awe of it all
I stare back vexed
wanting to tell all yet I cannot
One look
is all it takes
to make me lust
But it may just be the work of pixie dust
I sense the inner turmoil erupting within
the subtle expression of stress and tensions
I cannot recoil from him, only comfort
While I sit in the chair opposite his
Vis-a-vis
No masks
here alone
All I can do is listen, listen intently
to him speak, gloriously speak
If only I could sit here for an eternity
But is it some sort of repression
I pick up from his tense expression?
An all-seeing eye ganders briefly
Down my legs
Lingering shortly on my feet
What is it Professor?
Is this some kind of abstinence I see?
I wonder if a man as wise as he
would repress his libido so easily
Unlike me
For I secretly desire
I want his full attention
and to know his real intentions
Oh my
They say in whispers
"No. This cannot be."
But I roll my eyes
This is no Lolita-complex to fear
Desiring, longing for and fond of
Endearing, fancying that which is considered
Forbidden and Taboo
I only hope he feels the same so that
The Professor reciprocates someday
One of these days
Being blunt, direct, and forward in his display
For I am not afraid
I say: Love is love, like is like, all of which are not entirely blind
Only age, race, and color-blind
However, it's safe to say
I pray to a nonexistent deity
for my desire to be consummated
Any day now--I await you
Someday soon now
My Professor
