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The Moroccan moon above us shining as we lay in that sand dune hugging close. Up at the base camp the sound of singing and an old guitar being played. Voices floating down to us singing and laughter. We lay there kissing seeking moon's shadow hearing the sea's roar. You took off your shorts and pink underwear as the moon played you and I undressed too. We missed the party and hullabaloo and the hard drinking from old wine bottles. On the edge of it the world turned about as we lay there sexed and undone in dark with the wind's slight moan touching our young heads in our sand dune beds.
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May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 3:45 AM UTC
Under Moroccan Sky 1970
The Moroccan moon above us shining as we lay in that sand dune hugging close. Up at the base camp the sound of singing and an old guitar being played. Voices floating down to us singing and laughter. We lay there kissing seeking moon's shadow hearing the sea's roar. You took off your shorts and pink underwear as the moon played you and I undressed too. We missed the party and hullabaloo and the hard drinking from old wine bottles. On the edge of it the world turned about as we lay there sexed and undone in dark with the wind's slight moan touching our young heads in our sand dune beds.
TerryCollett
Written by
May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 3:45 AM UTC
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