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to slip excitement into the night
Folder:
little bird i can't help but think
and by think i mean lust
about the coolness of the night and
the conduction of your steamy narrows
i can't forget how the contortion of your elbows
removes your shirt and reveals your pink stabs
and if ever i was think about slipping into excitement
it would the excitement of your slender delight
of how a walk through the night to the shore
and slipping always from the street lamp into
the shadow of a lustful kiss
how the gentle slip of a finger
down the waist of your jeans
is the wolf call to the moon
in a moment
where eventually
slobber on my cheek
could belong to
you or me
