She Called Me Snookums
She called me her snookums
back in the day
when my rising to the occasion
was duly expected.
I still have mad desires for a
jump in the hay,
aging maladies have left raging
I referred to her as sweet meat
before grey settled in,
when rising arousal was still
In my time besotted mind I still
take her for a spin,
then lay out in spasmodic gasps
as if I were spent.
Sexual gratification may just be
a historical mind trip,
dining voraciously on memories of
sweat and smiles.
The length of the love we've shared
is far more hip,
unlike mad sex it can still get it up,
traveling joint miles.
Submitted slyly for the No Frills challenge
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