You want to chat,
Or just to spoon.
You want and need them here so much.
The scent of them consumes your nose,
We smile and think and feel a twitch.
The blood now rushing through so fast,
We feel the moment and make it last.
Should our heart just make a deal,
For emotion is not meant for men.
We have grown to think we should conceal,
The passion, lust, and need we feel.
We see them here and send a box,
Then wait and hope we see it pop.
At once the heart begins to throb,
Truth is, we hope to do a job.
We see the box and smile with flutters,
The words are meant to make us squeal.
The person that you wanted so,
Has sent a message that seems quite real.
It could be reading chats or poems,
We type and read to fill our need.
Admittedly we all seek glory,
Its human nature, not the story.
Some need to feel the rush within,
Of butterflies and throbbing parts.
I must admit my guilt of pleasure,
But don’t we seek our special treasure?
