Hit For Six

I watch you drip-drain the can of cherry coke,

Then light-up, draw deep and plume

Circles of smoke.

We sit so close on the embankment,

Watch the youth’s playing cricket.

And the bead of sweat on your neck,

Tempts me to lick it, lick it.

We’re closest friends who confide,

But I look and dream of you,

With the eyes of a lifelong lover.

But you look at me differently,

Just how a sister looks at her brother.

I’ve never made a move,

I’d wilt of rejection and be crushed, 

By the avalanche of shame.

“Out!” 

The youths cheer and jeer,

Playing a much safer, kind of game.