I don’t know what was naughtier—

the fact that you misbehaved with me so deliciously

serving me up my long-awaited taboo communion

or the fact that you laughed and boisterously recounted all

so immediately to all who took a listen (later at the bar)

when evidence of our panky was still fresh upon

our sated though unshowered bodies.

o baby, you rolled like a dancing dervish into this occasional tinsel town

and I was so surprised to see you I figuratively exclaimed “Fuck me!”

which you, literally, actually proceeded to do

and I was so thrilled by that  I allegorically shouted out “Fuck me!” again

which you, essentially,  factually arranged and when done proclaimed

“déjà vu”.

and when I said “I love you, baby.”
and you said “Shhhhh……

lust me now, love me when I’m gone.”

I right there then

decided I’d never love again

but just keep you around

as my belusted

(ever-lusting friend).