The Loves of the Carwash and the Tollbooth
My compact auto(erotic)mobile
entered your carwash housing
code correct non collect
slowly chained as masochist
to too sadistic machinations
polished chrome,
first warm wetness
be-foreplay soap n suds bath
scrubbies rubbing nubbies
till they shone pulled inside
by unknown forces
mutual attraction perhaps
then hot bath to rinse off filth
resoap with wealth of suds
touchy rhythm of dancing panels
pummeling tips tangoing a minuet
of lovetaps on my shell of a man
nonstop through play of dripping liquid
spraying all around by ventral
dorsal lateralis hidden creases
cleansed by gently firm placed squirts
of scented foams and drying agents
drenched like summer's sweet sweat
lapped by lovers' lips
till dried by hot breath blasts
sunshine rays enveloping all
myself my weekly ritual of you.
Your limo passed through speeding
bar code catching coinless passage
rites on right of way, my one way
toll that never touched your hand
but satisfied the daily need to pay
the cost of living – all alone.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 491 times
Written on 2007-03-05 at 05:53
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