@ 27.055 MHz: Ad Astra; Pleasant Perspectives

[for Cerulean]

When you slide off the shoes you so obviously dislike, your

bell-bottom jeans seem baggier, but also---more supple.

When you untuck your white shirt, and unfasten its buttons

(frontally, and at the wrists), it seems loosely oversized on your torso.

When you slowly remove all of your clothes, except those dark blue socks,

old prudes' imhibitions and haters' frenzied prejudices;

mean no more than a small nest of piss-ants in some sandpile; and,

with nothing but your socks on, and your aroused tumescence

already suggestive (and bobbing, slightly, to the rhythm of your pulse),

your nakedness seems more naked than just naked.

(Yes, I love to conjugate that word, when Ii think about you; even now in

old age:  naked, nakedly, nakedness more naked than just naked; Cerulean, naked . . .

except for your socks.)


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