Sex

I think the title says it all about this poem.  This is a very primal poem, and all about fucking, not love making.

Bumping grinding moaning
He seems to enjoy
Screaming clawing
She wants more

Squeaking groaning breaking
Is the bed
Crumpled discarded left
The clothes they shed

Holding touching whispering
After the act
Loving cherishing needing
Their forever pact

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