Wet
Cold, dark rain drops are falling on my back,
As I continue to fall on your front,
Receiving the benefits of the hunt,
Under a sky that is completely black.
On a bed of grass, we pile in a stack.
Caught in the moment, we perform this stunt,
Giving and getting an object so blunt.
Feeling the rhythm, we remain on track.
With satisfaction, I make my last call,
Relieving your back of the grass of blades.
Satisfied, we walk away from it all,
Leaving behind the love that we just laid.
On the ground, the rain continues to fall,
Washing away the love that we just made.
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