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Please forgive my attitude
And if it seems I'm being rude
All my actions get misconstrued
I guess it's me and never you
I look soft and sweet
but I'm tough as nails
It's not that I win
but know how to fail.
Sundays smell of intimacy
The initial easing in
The slow meandering journey to x marks the spot
Round and round
Anticipation building
Bodies sweating
Momentum heaving
The right timing
The right configurations
Jockeying positions
Hands grip and pull
Finding and riding the sweet spots
Exertion. Discipline. Determination.
My compass rose

Another salty Sunday sailboat race
Her spirit was tousled,
unbuttoned and daring; brazen,
speaking in a wild language.
Every interaction
another opportunity to tell me
how much I hurt you.
How loving me
makes you a fool.
Please forgive me
for not being swept off my feet
and allowing you
to plunder my depths.
If ever I start to baah and bleet
And start to turn into a sheep
Slap me good and slap me hard
Keep me out of the farm yard
Bring to light the mindless plight
And remind me that I howl at night.
Unidentifiable nomads
Dancing rootless, lean and hard
In the rhythm of now
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