memories of phil collins(?)

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there was something in the air alright.

she was a bit short but lovely

with legs to die for and a set of feet

that matched the gams like perfect crystal

tumblers filled with single malt scotch.

a little acne but nothing that wouldn’t

clear up after a time or two

in between the sheets.

i thought i was being discreet.

apparently not.

or was it something else?

you caught me looking at you.

i caught you looking at me.

the situation was awkward at best.

a lovely short pink skirt and those legs.

just divine.

the pink was perfect against the asian olive tones

of your skin.

i thought only of sin
those almost perfect feet.

it became a sorta open i’m lookin’ at

you deal going back

and forth.

sexual tension in the air.

oh, lord.  oh, yeah.

sadly, the wrong place and the wrong time.

so it always seems. 

time to go. 

you just stood there alone.

full on face.



i was radiant.

the timing so bad i ached.

i just wanted to take your hand

walk someplace and talk.

to see if it was real

or just another phantom

in the night.




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