Adult Education Poem by Randall Livingston
Adult Education
She'd leave the door partly open
and undress.
I was fourteen.
She was forty.
Things like that you never forget.
Her panties hung in the bath.
I remember red and black.
I'd run them through my fingers.
She wore garters and heels.
I wished she'd be my teacher.
- R -
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: education,teacher
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8/12/2026 7:47:24 PM # rel_20260811T123139Z_a98d49b
