In my head
When I talk with you
At night,
I think of that old game
Kids used to play:
“I’ll show you mine;
If you show me yours,”
And recall all those
Perverted thoughts
I got in Grammer School
When I pondered what
Nuns wore under their habits,
And in the dark
I wonder the same about you,
Will you show me
If I show you,
Will it look like I dream it will
As red from rubbing
As mine always is,
Or maybe,
I’m dreaming of that
Other game
Post Office,
And how I ached
To put my letter
In your box.
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