Crossing State Lines Poem by Thomas McKelvey

'Virginia is for lovers'
yeah,
that's what the sign said, but
I don't think your father agreed.
That first summer, I spent hours
driving, just to see you
for an hour or two
every day, for two months
and I really do think your Dad hated me.
Suspiciously glaring, as I slipped into your room
as you shut the door, turning on
the music, like he didn't know.
We sat on your bed, surrounded by your youthful memories, slowly falling
like sunlight
hot like an iron in the sky.
I could feel the trembling heat
of your skin, and it felt like a sin
fighting the urges, burning
like the sun between my thighs.
And I know the lines
of your lips
your chest
your thighs
of your sensitive places
and the lines you're not ready to cross.