This Shower - Poem by R.J. Bevans
Glory in the shower,
Hot, facing his lover
He was moved in earnest
By her effort, motion and reach
Her deliberate desire,
Her his breasts shoulder blades
Waiting for acknowledgement.
Usually hirsute and hesitant,
Felt the vigour of her advances.
And he became sure,
He was sure of this;
The weather, the bills, the dried out orange peels,
Even 6 days ago,
He thought nothing of,
For now his mind was full; for she
From: consider this:
Love and admiration
Thought of her reflection
She stood, tippy-toed,
Under airy-wet heat,
Up because: taller-shorter
And our gentleman was,
And proud their bliss.
The innocent amour
Requested absolute touch
In form of serious kiss; the pass.
Just then he seen
Her natural intent,
And it shook his romantic stupor clean,
Her alluring posture was feigned.
Her reaching forth was no more.
Instead there rose the reasonable pose,
In the sexually certain contrast,
Of an innocent soaping her ass,
Lathering and Hurrying
Their salty crass syrup
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