Isis 2007

Under The Hood

Your jeans are stretched tight as you bend under the hood,
T-shirt rumpled, pulled up. My hairy chest man.
Those jeans. So tight, revealing, beckoning.
'Would you like dinner now? I have
Something for you.
Come inside.'

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Poem Submitted: Friday, June 1, 2007
Poem Edited: Saturday, March 5, 2011

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Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening



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