Choices are the worst to make,
Since there’s so much to choose,
To choose to be a friend or more,
Or choose to win or lose.
To choose between his grainy cheek,
And my fingers sliding down her hips,
To choose between his dimpled back,
And her laughter-parted lips.
A choice to make is far worse when,
The language you must speak,
Is one of love and not of words,
But of feelings thought unique.
To choose between her windswept hair,
And the skin inside his thighs,
To choose between her graceful neck,
And the spark of laughter in his eyes.
For choosing is a better fate,
Than to choose nothing at all,
For standing is a better thing,
Than it is to trip and fall.
Points: 890
Reviews: 21
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