The day is cold
Fog, frost, the Fosse Way frog
The day is cold and if I make the call
I expect a riposte filled reception
Sat in the mall, my mind is stalled
I am feared of further deception
Maybe six years ago we slept together

Did I forget to mention
I miss her mind
Thats not just my kind intention
Though for certain it is those thighs
Where my loins verbose

We turned a trick
In and out of bed we were slick
Though in conversation matters were worse
We became adept at surreal pretension
All in turn turned to silence

It was up
With no structure
Neither an outhouse construction
To fall back upon
a poem from In & Out of Dream Space
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