Three Flights Up

A Lamborghini prince,

protective of his pride,

shows care and caress,

a gentleman of nobleness.

He draws two men near,

In the chill of the night,

takes them Up Three Flights

to grumble their apologies—

for crossing boundaries

he won’t let slide.

Two strangers, under a lit tree,

seem to be entwined,

yet both eyes are fixed on me—

My man at my side,

whom they both could see.

One leaned close, the fucking nerve,

Again and again,

Undisturbed,

Must be deaf to the word No.

But he—

Who got us in for free,

In heights of rooftop lights,

wouldn’t let it be.

They slipped down three flights of stairs,

to catch their ride, yet unaware,

rage he felt; the intentional disrespect.

He tracked their steps, called them back,

A sovereign built to attack,

Demanding respect for his man,

apologies they need to unpack.

And back they came,

face-to-face with his Pride,

for the disrespects he couldn’t let slide.

A protector, claiming space,

Not for him, not for me -

for us, to show me what love can be.

I watched him there,

wealth and riches aside

titles tossed by the waist side,

more real than riches,

a real man standing there;

without glitches.

Three Flights Up