BUSINESS WEEKEND- A poem

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A still lake in the forest
Off-season, cold water and golden trees
We laugh at each other, undressing
Nothing has changed since last year
Or the year before
Or the year before that
She holds on to beauty like these waters
That ripple as we emerge
Cold, tight muscles
I find her, find her mouth, her tongue
Kissing as we glide together
Letting the lake carry away the year
Time moves faster here, and we find the shore
Taking in the last moments of light
Dressing, we ask no questions
One of the rules
I slip on my ring
As we walk back to our cars

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