I gave up on time,
kept getting stood up
by the reaper.
I was left sitting at the bar,
at all the wild hours in
high heeled boots
and fishnets,
corset and that
skirt you like
slipping your hands
underneath.
Could I fuck you
in my sleep,
just the way I like it
and confess secrets
in the morning
over coffee
and the sound of
slippery rain?
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