In the quiet stillness
I would lay,
dreaming about how
we might play;
if I weren’t as timid
as a mouse,
and got you to come
to my house;
we’d run our fingers
here and there,
tickle our bodies so
young and fair;
clothed in darkness
in my room,
under the blankets
I’d assume;
touching new places
we’d not been,
doing what’s natural,
far from sin.
How sweet the tho’t
of me ‘n you,
fucking back then, if
it weren’t taboo.
~gj duerrschmidt
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