ramblings and things

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Making love

Making love is wonderful
so long as you're discreet.
Only dogs and foreigners
do it in the street.
I've made love in the shower,
covered in sudsy soap,
lathered on our bodies
from a bar strung on a rope.
I've made love in the kitchen.
I've made love in the bath,
even in the garden,
standing on the path.
The only real restrictions
are those inside your head.
It never was the intention
to restrict it to a bed.
Making love is wonderful
so long as you're discreet:
but only dogs and foreigners
do it in the street.


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Making love