Aye Captain
The sun sends him screaming
from our ship,
chasing his youth,
into the bathroom,
blonde brushes into grey,
and he blushes,
as I swim closer.
I kiss, coded,
along his bow.
India.
Sierra. Tango. India. Lima. Lima.
Whiskey. Oscar. Uniform. Lima. Delta.
Safe in a lifeboat,
back in my arms,
he sinks back under the covers,
starts another sensuous storm.
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