I was wearing the black dress I slept in.
	I forgot to pack my blue silk nightgown,
	the one with lace across the breasts, so

	I had nothing new to show you.  You laid 
	your head on my thigh that night 
	as we watched TV, your fingers flirting
	along the edge of my underwear, but going
	no further.  In the morning we tried for nearly 
	an hour, but I was first too dry, then bleeding,

	and finally you left me with a pop
	and went to take a shower.  I lay on the bed, 
	with my eyes closed and my legs still open,

	listening to the water run.  You politely took 
	me home, but we had to stop at the mall
	so I could buy clean underwear.  I can't sleep 

	tonight, remembering how my hair whipped around 
	my face as we drove down the highway, with the 
	windows open, and only the wind speaking between us.

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