All of the women who took the woody trail
to Harwayne's backyard hot tub
were small breasted and enthusiastic
which lessened our difference. As
wives of friends, as lovers of friends,
as friends of friends or their sisters,
as cohabitors and cobelievers in water,
we favored its caress—choosing to think
or to not think, but certainly to watch
the illumination of buttocks
in full moon light, steam spreading
from our chests, the weakened shadows.
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