The Reading

One story later, I emerged a different person.

Google pulled me into a dance of
clashing beats, throwing me off
course as I stumbled upon a page.
I called it research, but soon it
turned to all-consuming reading.

Clicking the link, I tiptoe in a world
of two men introduced in competition
which led to their fusion.
Hours breeze as I'm entranced by
their embraces, disrobing, kisses, and
I don't know why.

But two men...it's my demon,
my high school companion,
a beast looming, haunting me
since I dared to walk the line
and seek men who scorned my sex.

But these words...they ensnared me!
As dawn peeks from her cave, I scroll the pages
of a long-winded tale where men escape their cages.
Typos parade on the page, but I could care less
as I ruminate the ending embrace
which makes me wish this was their destiny.

But this fiction...is only a trifle
which lassoed my heart, branded my mind.
My rattled brain splits, and I'm at war.
I want to fight for these athletes,
yet my pet demon shrieks for an end to my reading.
Who knew this Last Swim could reduce me to zen?
Pity. I wish I could be that scribe.