I dream of red moons
maybe autumn afternoons
when I could enter a room
and strip you
without saying a word
no preliminaries
just wordless needs
we could converse in grunts
and smile in slick thumps
as our bodies make vacuums
and voids
when we writhe
on strange beds
that smell of musky booze
from the bottle you'd been drinking
of locally available rum
having not even muttered a 'hi'
all the talks can be done
after you and I've infinitely cum
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