Quondam Hero

Smooth skinned, old babe-my James Bond!

Relationship knows her worth through us, we leads her, her way.
Every Morning, I wake up and think of our day ahead, yet you told me “Two-thirds of the week is enough for us”!
I see us heading nowhere with these!
You wanted “just” friends, I secretly wanted “close” friends, yet I nodded as a dummy to your “just” friends.

Evenings, I crave to see your raw face and my peer mate wondered why I’m fond of you-old boy!
How can I tell them I love to see your cracked face, smiling at my young foolishness and riddles?
How can I tell them I love to look my face between your gapped-aged teeth?
And watch your lips gives ‘Love’ –‘Luf’.
I tell you again and again –“my name is Mary Murray not Merry Muffin”-yet I smiled at those mistakes for your lips are too old and weak for my civilized name.

Now, two-third of week is here, my waiting’s finally satisfied.
Childly-charm, I put on my make-ups and wait patiently on the cushion, awaiting your extolment on my beauty.
Coming, I stood up gleefully and my heart racing and pounding like I ran from Toronto.
Now, you grin and shook a head “Young beauty is beauty, make-ups are fugly, and I think your mother never used that, she born you”

I hate those words! It hits me and I slack back on the cushion.
You pick me and ribbed me, I agree to go.

Leisurely at the park, people stare faced with an “O”- should I blame them?
I find no fault in their expression- you brought about the “O”, when you put the Can Coke under the sun, “I want it to ripe” you told me.
“O” faces turn to a laughter- I stared in dismay then fall upon the grasses and gave out a loud laugh.
My quondam hero!

I am thirty years, you are sixty years.
Beautiful differences- age and attitude, yet it feels same.
Your company makes me younger.
Oh! I’ll increase the two-third of the week, I certainly will, I am not getting enough of you!