I want to tell you a story
of late night glory,
and dew,
and me
and you.

It was an experience
wonderful and strange!
I did it more than once:
Returning again
to where you’d lain.

I could scarcely contain
my curiousity
to see if I could tell
where the fruits of our amourosity
fell.

And, once I did,
could not contain, again,
myself, and on I sped;
would not refrain,
but exploded in memoric,
meteoric
delight!
By myself,
in my room,
where you’d lain
at night.