vintage me , fangled him

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On a pretty long drive,
With romantic songs
& my hand in your hands
You asked me a question, 
"Tell me about yourself"
You hold my hand close to you & tried to make me comfortable.
& for that moment,
I started to believe you.
Unless or until 
Your hand drives into my fabric topwear.
And then you make eye contact with your puppy eyes
& what wonders me now 
Does that question really matter to you,
Or is it a way to put your hand inside my thin shirt.

I remember
It was a weekend
We were enjoying the sunset on our favourite spot.
& I was really happy 
Coz I was thinking 
I have found someone 
Who would love me,
Even in my pyjamas.
We were listening to songs
With a cup of coffee 
in a warm cold twilight.
& suddenly you ask me a question
"What you like most"
I blush
& I answer him "you"
He told me why 
I told him
"About how I truly love you,
How I love your promises" 
But I don't know that these promises had conditions, 
Condition to put his hand under my pants.
& suddenly
The next question more
Sounded like "tell me can I fuck you"

I am sorry 
If you get me wrong 
But I don't think that question matters to you,
Coz you only interested to fuck me 
If you really want to know me, you would listen to me
& I would have told you,
I am not the one who easily attracted by the physique, 
I am not the one who diving without knowing the chasm,
I am not the one looking for new-fangled love.

Yes I am fragile 
Not like a flower 
But like a cloud
Who will burst 
When it's the time.

in this modern world 
I am the one 
Who stills believes
In old school love.

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