Meet Me

If you want

To meet me

Halfway between

Where you are and

Where I’ll be

We can

Get somewhere cheap

And never even

Turn on the tv

We could just

Not talk

The whole evening

There is plenty

We could catch up on

Just between

Our bodies

Meeting, Morse code

Of sorts

I don’t get

So tired, anymore

I could offer you

Room service

Before, during and

After you’re finished

Body talking

A dissertation of

Tits smacking on

Tits, sticking so

Pleasantly listening

To the ac hum

Not noticing

Sounds of hell from

Down the hall

Too busy

Searching for heaven

In some

Labia wondering why

Jesus multiplied

Fish and bread

When he could’ve eaten

Pussy instead


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