It was on a mountain as I recall
the first time on mine your silken skin flowed.
You had to do it then or not at all
(that’s what you said as you veered off the road).
Then we bumped through the darkness with greedy
desire. I was hard; you were wet inside.
“Please don’t think that I’m being too needy”
were your lyrics as you opened up wide.
But our needs were reciprocal, darling;
just as our moves seemed so choreographed.
My heart you were hornily abducting;
and I will never forget how you laughed!
Those hours when my head lay on your thigh
convinced me I would never say goodbye.
© 2012, Alan Morrison