The Winter Is Too Warm

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The winter is too warm
But it’s too cold for tanlines
The beach not quite deserted
But I think that’s just fine
I could use some freedom
But you’d just call that semantics
Splitting hairs when I’d rather
Be engaging you in some bedroom antics
You’d blush and slap my cheek
But that’s mere foreplay to me
I went kissing a little too low
That’s when you spilt your daiquiri

Most Guys

Most guys

Will tell as many lies

As it takes to get between your thighs

But that’s not my goal

I’m just trying to find something to fill this hole

That has been left in my soul

*this is one of the first poems I can remember writing. I believe it goes back to ’94 or ’95.