Hot summer nights, wild, wild lovin windows open to the hot night air night breeze teases our sweaty skin we writhe and cry out crazy words shouting moaning the bed's squeaking The headboard's banging, loud and steady like a big bass drummer keeping time until even we can't take noise any longer, stuffing pillows tween the bed and the wall to muffle the sound of our frenzied desire I hear loud knocking upon the door open up! open up! this is the police! Is someone in there being kilt? open up or we will break down this door! neighbor's said someone's being injured stumbling naked, my robe forgotten Smiling sheepishly I let them in as they look me over and shake their heads you smile and wave from beneath the sheets they stammer apologies, then quickly leave us I lock the door, and return to your side we laugh like kids and wriggle together where were we, before being interrupted? I think I remember, but refresh my mind give me some help with this, lets start again Hot summer nights, wild, wild lovin windows open to the hot night air night breeze teases our sweaty skin we writhe and cry out crazy words shouting moaning the bed's squeaking
W. I. Boucher December 9, 1997