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Desire
He threw the blanket over his head. I pulled it off, revealing that singular smile. Climbing above me, our eyes locked. "Are you comfortable?", he asked. I responded, "Yes". Again that smile; irresistible. His face moves closer to mine. Lips touch. The world dissolves and nothing else matters.
I'm a guy. I don't regret it. I miss him.
Then stop trying to be a poet and be a lover. Singular smile? As opposed to plural smile? Climbing above me? What, on a ladder? Just hook up with the guy, ** each other's ** and get the ** pleasure you want so bad.