40 years later

dark hot water covers my penis
and I'm thinking about the sex between us
watching the night, a skyscape of stars
thinking of women I meet in bars ...
long ago, in a previous setting
alcohol and sexual betting
"will I get lucky tonight?"
sleep with someone, hold them tight ...
if only for a hour or two
perhaps one of them was you
with a long-neck smile and cowgirl jeans
both of us just out of our teens ...
country swing, and too much to drink
"I live down the road, what do you think?"
out to my truck, we grope and laugh
far from whole, but each of us half ...
back at my place I take off your shirt
no bra back then, nipples alert
take off our boots, socks and Levi's
you giggle and say you like my size ...
you in your panties, me in my skin
I run my hands across you, again
kiss your neck, your belly, your prize
run my hands between your thighs ...
your panties are white, clean as the snow
I hook my thumbs, and down they go
the length of your legs, as slow as I might
I try to remember we have all night ...
but urgency rises, on the floor, in a blink
our sexual desire, and organs, link
legs wrap around me, my hands exploring
back then sex was never boring ...
each orgasm was the best in the world
each position a banner unfurled
letting the masses know we just did it
if anyone asked, we'd quickly admit it ...
"damn, yes, we had sex, it was groovy"
in the back of my truck, at the drive-in movie
in the city gazebo by the light of the moon
and we're doing it again, again real soon ...
but forty years later, a cosmic snap
of the fingers, we think, oh fuck, or crap
we should have made love, when we were just screwing
way too young to know what we were doing ...
so, I watch the stars, try to recall
where we both, really, there at all
how could we ever have been so new
but I'd do it again, in a second, with you ...