Why do some men remember me?

It is freakish, it is

strange
It is alarming, sometimes charming
It is a lottery, a game of chance
And sometimes depressing

I often want to forget
But not to be forgotten
To be thought of fondly
And not to be rotten

I want to excite
In fantasies and dreams
To warm ageing minds
And lift dormant cocks

I want to be on your lips
And on your tongue
I want to be whispered
And to know it was fun

Because that makes it so much better

Windows

Windows

What window are you?
Do you hide those looking in?
Or those looking out?

Many people obscure,
They erect blinds
And curtains are drawn

However, you can see through me
I am tainted and torn
But continue to darken the light

I create shadows
That men hide in
And where I'm hiding now

The window was opened
And now it's shut
The paintwork making a seal

Prose for Pros 7

                                               I want your arse! Bum pals

And he said:

I want your arse, I want your bum

I want your anus, I want your butt

I want your moans I want your grouns

I want your sobs and I want your nos

I want your sighs, I want your gasps

I want your scratches and I want your wants

And I want your wishes and I want your desires and I want your permission

To do it again......with........my friend.

Fruit and sex! And I don't just mean bananas! And vegetables too!

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