What I really wanted that night outside the bar -- when we
broke from our routine on the stools inside for her to get a smoke outside --
was to push her hard against the wall, her arms splayed, my mouth pressed
against hers, my body throbbing to get at hers, to press in, undress her there
and then, in the dark so I could get at her, the ache do acute, I still feel it
all these years later, asking myself why
I didn't do it, why I settled later for a kiss on the ride home, to take her
then and there, to feel my hardness against her softness, to deposit in her,
all the flow of lava pent up inside me, then, now, always -- that precious moment gone
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