Footnote: Late Night Desert

Whipped cream sprayed on your

sheer black stockings---right down to

your toes (they gladly

fled the grip of shoes):  much (not

sleep) to partake of tonight.




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allets's picture


shear black or not cost a lot of money. You ever try to get whipped cream out of stockings. Best to just thow them away (like I do). Good one! Enjoyed this, but the person in the poem probably enjoyed it far more than I did. Hmmmmmm. :D



q.v.'s picture

Thank you.  Unfortunately,

Thank you.  Unfortunately, this poem is accurate as to my imagination of her, but fictional as to any moment in our mutual history.