I fell asleep on a text book,
Studying, worming through books.
Making swift glances at women
Who are bona fide nerds.
The glasses that embellish their faces
The library chicks, pecking
On a moment in history,
Opening a door, climbing in,
And we are bookies, booking a room
Boggling each others anatomies,
And nothing ends till the last page,
From cover to cover, and the plot
Becomes sleazy and tempestuous.
We make love, the nerdy kind,
When glasses are, as much to do with the halo on top,
Your weak spot for the “good girl gone bad”,
And the paraphernalia she wears,
Ooh la la, bespectacled that becomes
A spectacle in bed, the good girl,
Who makes it so steamy and crazy,
The glasses on the nose top,
Moaning subtly, going to and fro,
And the egghead she is, calling it an aubergine,
And not an eggplant, as other women do,
Witty the way she asks me for validation,
When she places her right palm there,
Letting her drooling mouth, make an inquiry.
A polite one, where I am right now,
And its amazing how quick it all is.
Like a cotton boll bursting out,
Outflowing cotton candy, which she
Calls now, a staple for her sweet tooth.