Sex All Around - Poem by D.W. Good
Sex all around
The girl was better than a stranger as she smiled across the sidewalk at the man in a silly looking hat.
I could tell she knew the guy but how I did not know. He sat there on the bench and didn’t seem at all happy to see her, as if her attractiveness was as alien to him as “good” taste in hats.
I thought, maybe she just happened to be looking at him while she thought of a funny story or other happy sort of memory.
Maybe she was simply laughing at the hat as I had done just before she had turned the corner. But at the instant she smiled at the man in the hat, my mind went straight to the nasty sort of speculation.
I saw him and her, not actually but in my imagination, skirt up and zipper down, around 3am just last night on the same bench, wrapped tightly, pretzel like, blowing each other in the early morning dew.
Then I thought I must truly be a pervert, but then what if I was some freak with a keen ability to spot such random, raunchy relationships.
Wait, I told myself, this lady had class, a dark grey shirt and a tennis player’s ass.
Besides, that damn hat is just ridiculous.
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