Anachronism

The heart flutters
as hot as
it was
back in junior high
at the sight and curve
of her
thigh

It wants to sit
in some dark corner
of a grungy
bar
overrun with sports
screens
and shout
at her
anything that comes
up

But this is not the time
of life to be chasing
confused and intoxicated
infatuation
they say

That was then
this is
time to
sit back to
comb serenity
from the tangled
mess
of days of lust long gone

You see it there
mirage
so real you could drink it

On whom is this joke
this surprise
short circuit?
this taste of love
so sweet you might choke on it?