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deepundergroundpoetry.com
ON THE TABLE
The table was bare, without any cloth -
Just like our bodies after the clothes doff.
Tempted by its 'I can see my face' shine,
she hoist herself on it, hand pulling mine.
She lay back, liked the feel 'gainst her bare skin.
I gently climbed on her, eased myself in.
My body upon hers, the table rocked,
as, mouths limpeting, our legs interlocked,
its legs conducted every down push,
with taps on the tiles, that would raise a blush
if neighbours could see the cause of the sound -
us two making love three feet above ground.
Just like our bodies after the clothes doff.
Tempted by its 'I can see my face' shine,
she hoist herself on it, hand pulling mine.
She lay back, liked the feel 'gainst her bare skin.
I gently climbed on her, eased myself in.
My body upon hers, the table rocked,
as, mouths limpeting, our legs interlocked,
its legs conducted every down push,
with taps on the tiles, that would raise a blush
if neighbours could see the cause of the sound -
us two making love three feet above ground.
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