Listen to those sounds, her moans
Of pure orgasm—You know
There's not a way back by morning.
A cab will pick her up—a goner.
No pick-ups, no tones.
Even if she does, supposed
We knew what this was before it started.
Why should casualness be bothered?
Edwin Cordero's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (High Again by Edwin Cordero )
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