Poetry / Prelude

I'm grappling with an inclination
to set your hips at a declination
and try to manage an erection
despite the many beers

I just feel an urge to explore
where countless others have gone before
I'll rock your world down to the core
before I pass out on your chest

I can still make this magical
the air is thick with romance,
my belt is mired in my pants
why does something feel damp?
I'd tell you the moon is beautiful
but that light is just an old ikea lamp

This night is cosmic, ethereal, singular
and wish I knew your name
after 38 times of calling you "babe"
the magic may degrade
I'm hoping for a morning
without awkward verbal dances
but mostly that you won't ask to get paid

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