You pull down my pants.
I quickly rip off my shirt, and then yours.
I let my my underwear drop while you do the same with your pants.
I sit back and watch as you carefully, delicately remove your underwear and bra.
Now we're tied in a confusing tangle of summer-scented sheets and tugging hands.

Thanks for helping me take the laundry down from the line.


Dead Robot said...

Adjusts beret and Wayfarers, snaps fingers in the dark coffee house

Actually that was brilliant! Good one!

Anonymous said...

And now will be understood by a whole new generation, post dryer.

Ontario recently removed the possiblity of so-called "covenants" that forbid the use of outdoor clotheslines.

Hooray for the summer-scented sheets :-)

We can put this into the anthology with the erotic poem dave

Unknown said...

Robot - I had to take the beret down from the line before adjusting.

Auntie - I was thinking of that very poem as I pulled into a picnic area to jot this down.