I called him more than twice.
If I knew where he was, even his last name,
(something French?) I might call again
to apologize for my naive
persistence, my lack of etiquette,
my ignorance of the austere code of tricks.
I didn't know then how to make love like that.
I thought of course we'd go on learning
the fit of chest to chest, curve to curve.
I didn't understand the ethos, the drama
of the search,
the studied approach to touch
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