A Measure

I'm really not a whimp. The word timidity was not in use, where Dad and all the rellies spoke. They hung around and made the rules, declared most folks as silly fools, while I, the number two was left to play with my devices every day. My childhood would have truly been the dream of any shrink, twas never dull and, due to allied bombs that visited with regularity, it kept us on our toes, and formed our souls, deep in our chests in soldier's vulgar prose. Today, having caught up to modern life, I fell into an estuary, on the Northern coast, things went, as far as one could tell, exceedingly, I'll skip the other adjectives of course. I woke the morning was azure, and we held hands inside the shower spilling soap, and then we sat to rest and kiss to simply hug wet skin and drink our scents, and, while I sat on Tuscan tiles it did occur to me that she may say, and kiss and hug and sleep the lovers' sleep but that, for reasons quite unknown, I really may not, oh God, not measure up not measure up at all.