The fashion of passion

Love, it seems
Isn't in the height of fashion,
Among circles
Of inner passion

Where once, to woo
Was the accepted thing
Along with ,hearts,flowers
And birds that sing.

Now,
I have to leap across a chasm.
Asking from my bar stool,
Can we have the next orgasm.

Never mind niceties
Like holding your hand
No, its my function
To bring it off as planned.

But still in a moment,
Just a moment its true,
I thought I caught a glimpse,
Of an older you.

So perhaps I will
Still wait upon my chair
Waiting for your kiss
To come & meet me there.

And others they may laugh
Saying I'm of an older fashion,
They don’t see my heart
That beats with mighty passion