thinking on heart breaking wisdom gained
youth’s passionate embraces
whether car’s backseat or his bed
am I one of many notches?
for some just a footnote
in the revolving door between their thighs
vague memory of stolen bliss
borrowed for just one night
you claim an insatiable hunger
one that can’t or won’t die
you’re a tom seeking me in heat
different from a sweet talking Casanova
how many women fell under your spell?
how many hearts did you break?
did one of them break yours?
by you being just a notch on her bedpost
now jaded by Don Juan’s games
yet seeing your pure heart
wishing to understand what is it
you seek by making notches on your bedpost
(c) Amanda Wilson 2013