Those who engage in such activities with members of a much younger age group seem... neurotic. The news feeds appeared littered with such accusations; clogged with incidences that feel as though they should be more remote. Why?
Why do people fall into these pitfalls? Why do they commit to such socially bastardized acts? Is it misguided ethics and neurotic morale or is society itself an accessory?
He reached out his hand to touch the girl's face,
As he drove home through the rain,
His hands clammily held the steering wheel.
Watching rivers wash away
The waste in the streets
Made him feel a little bit OK.
After a day spent like this,
To the call of abandoned bells,
Pruned skin and easy listening
Were worth the welts.
She was young.
She was lost.
She thought she had figured everything out.
Of epiphanies and tiffany glass,
And lips that pout.
Too bad, he thought,
Though he stopped to reconsider.
Stubbornness had already claimed his head.
His sleeves were dripping,
As he took off his coat
And sat down at the foot of the bed.
Staring out into the yard, he thought
Why so shallow?
Why so sick?
She's only fourteen!
You should have known your sympathy would stick.
He closed his eyes:
Reaching out his sweating hand
He touched her lips,
While the other prickled her knee.
"How had it come to this?"
Muttering and stuttering;
Muddling with his feelings.
A mockery and a cursory;
A moment, misleading.
Her lips were soft,
His hand scurried up her leg,
But he ripped his eyes open again
And cast the replay away.
His throat could not be unclogged
With the taste he had swallowed,
And even the simplest gesture of laughing it off
Such secrets aren't like you!
Shadows of ages lived and passed.
One who believed in once and only
Was going a little fast.
He rubbed his head, looking for a fever
Or smearing off her scent.
Dusk was settling in
And the afternoon had been spent:
In the backseat of a car
With golden hair and painted nails,
With costume jewelry and subject books,
Flashing lashes and dirty looks.
Flirty little girl:
Growing fast; sullied skin.
His body felt as though it eroded beneath the weight of a thousand sins.
Bashful biased blithe boy:
Growing conscious; feeling weak.
With her kiss she eased his disquiet and with his lips he complicated things.
Tomorrow was going to be a day few could survive
And only he would have such intolerable liberty.
His heart was sinking farther
And somehow he commanded it to;
Such attraction he thought he'd already found
When he married you.
He starred at her from across the table,
Thinking back to that afternoon -
The kiss that felt so surreal
And tasted nothing like you.
Mustn't dwell on it now. Deal with it later.
Putting on an act as if nothing is out of place
As they share dinner with the kids.