2 Poems (very dissimilar)

Mrs. Jones smiles
at my little advances.
Her temperature rises
at the way that we dances.
I showed her the stars
and the vasty expanses,
when she fainted from love,
and how tight my pants is.

-BR 11.17.06

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I want you when
your lips are sweet
and your spit is purple
from eating berries
by the handful.

I can wait.

-BR 11.17.2006